Collage
by jordancekismet
Summary: Add into the world of "Harry Potter", Rian Collins, one of the Weasley twins' best friends. Begins the summer after the twins leave Hogwarts but with retrospect.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note/Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

RPOV

I woke up to find my covers thrown off, a drafty air freezing my toes. I swept them back over me faster than I thought possible. My ceiling stared back at me, unyielding. Turning my head to the side, I saw that my alarm wasn't set to go off for another half hour, so I snuggled deep back down into my covers and smiled. A few minutes later, I realized that sleep wasn't going to come again. Irate, I threw my arm over my eyes and rebelliously relished the warmth of the blankets. This did not help. Finally I did throw off the covers, defiant of their enticing warmth, and made my way downstairs. However, my comforter came with me, cocooning me in warmth.

The cold and empty townhouse welcomed me, and I tugged the comforter tighter, although I wasn't against its particular lack of feeling, even as I turned on light after light to try and counter it. The house had more a sense for warmth than my housemate, also known as my mother, whose heart I believed was literally carved from stone. Luckily she'd been staying elsewhere ever since I'd graduated, and I'd only seen her on a few, unfortunate occasions.

The breakfast I made myself was unsatisfying, so I gave up on that and got dressed, but was ready far too soon, even with taking particular time and care for appearance. I sat in one of the great arm chairs in the living room and watched the clock above the fireplace anxiously, my foot tapping the hard floor incessantly until...finally! An acceptable time to go. I threw the powder into the flames, which abruptly turned a bright emerald green, and then stepped gently into the fireplace. I closed my eyes tightly but could do nothing to block the sound of wind and voices rushing past me. Once everything calmed, noises returned to their proper speed, but to me they sounded slow and dragging after the stream of much quicker sounds.

"Ginny! I told you not to touch that! Those are specifically for your brothers and—oh hello!" said Mrs. Weasley brightly, noticing me. I brushed off the soot in the fireplace and then stepped out, grimacing at the slight dizziness. I greeted them and they both smiled reassuringly at me.

"I'll just go get Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley, and turned up the stairs.

"You couldn't look more nervous if you tried," said Ginny, grinning at me.

"I'm _not_ nervous." My shaking hands belied this statement.

"Right," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm not! All I'm doing is starting a new job, at the Ministry, which took me ages to qualify for, and I have no idea what I'm doing." My face flushed. "Bloody hell, I'm nervous."

"Dad's really excited. He hasn't had anyone in our family join the Ministry since Percy." We both automatically glanced up the stairs to see if either Mr. or Mrs. Weasley was present. They weren't.

"Ginny," I said, now rolling my eyes. "I'm not in your family."

"Might as well be," she said, and then grinned. "You hung around enough here, didn't you?"

"I was invited," I said hotly, blushing slightly.

Ginny laughed. "Do you really not know what you're doing?"

"All I know is that I'm trying to find out the difference in Muggles, Squibs, and wizards. I just have no idea how I'm actually going to figure it out."

"You will," she said confidently. "And if not..."

"It doesn't really matter to anyone?" I asked dryly.

"Exactly," she said with another grin.

"Thanks for that. So how does it feel being home? Other than the whole 'holiday' thing?"

"Better," she said, though her forehead creased. "My ankle's fine now and Luna's visited a couple of times. But mostly it's been hard because of..."

"Sirius," I finished. Sirius was Harry's godfather. When I'd first met him, it was when the Order was living in his old family house, this time last summer. He'd been very good friends with the twins, and as their best friend, I was sort of automatically included into his circle of trust. I'd been reluctant to befriend him at first, after years of seeing his name on Wanted posters, but once I gave him a chance we caught on quickly. However, he'd died a few short weeks ago, in a battle at the Ministry of Magic, that Ginny, Luna, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were all present for.

"Mum! Mum? Ginny, have you seen Mum? Oh. Hey Rian." Ron stood in the kitchen looking embarrassed, wearing only a pair of old pajamas. His arms were still slightly scarred from a battle with brains that tried to strangle him at the Ministry.

"Hey Ron," I said, trying not to smile and failing. "Your mum went to go and get your dad."

"Oh," he said, but didn't go upstairs. Instead, he sat beside Ginny and helped himself to one of the cookies that Mrs. Weasley had scolded Ginny for taking.

"Are you stopping by their store today?" Ginny asked me.

"Most likely." This time I didn't even try to stop my smile as they both pouted. "I'll send gifts."

"All ready, Rian?" asked Mr. Weasley eagerly, bounding down the stairs.

"Yes sir," I said, standing dizzily.

"Hey, Rian, send this to my brothers, will you?" asked Ron, tossing me a bag that I recognized to be filled with dungbombs. Mr. Weasley cast a weary glance at Ron, before shaking his head.

"Of course," I said, smirking. "They'll appreciate such a thoughtful gift, I'm sure."

When we finally arrived at the Ministry, Mr. Weasley walked me to the employment offices and left me there.

"Good luck," he said, and shook my hand professionally. I stared at him, confused, as he was usually much less pompous. As soon as a group of important looking wizards walked out of sight, he gave me a gentle hug and I grinned, relaxing. "Molly's got a stew planned for supper if you can make it, Bill's coming. Could you tell the boys as well?"

"Thanks. I will."

He hurried off back down the hallway, nodding here and there to people. Sighing, I opened the door and ducked into the small office. The old wizard behind the desk looked as though he was going to fall over dead any day now. It wasn't until I stated my name three times that he finally shuffled to the back room and returned with a small file.

"Rian C-" he coughed violently, "Collins?"

"YES!" I said.

"Good, good. Ah, Percy," said the wizard, and I turned, my eyes wide. Percy had a similar expression on his face, though his was much more filled with distaste. "Could you escort this lady to the Department of Mysteries? Alkorov is waiting for her there."

"I really can't," said Percy flatly.

"I'm sure I'll be able to find it on my own," I responded tightly.

"Come now Percy, it's right on your way down. I assume you're here for your applications, yes?"

"Yes," said Percy, his mouth barely moving.

"Well, then, here you are, now off you go."

We left the office together, and took the elevator down to the lowest level. He even walked me to meet Alkorov, a kindly old man who didn't say much. Despite Percy's escort, I felt that the dungbombs were more of a companion than him. Right before he left, I glanced up at him with a bright smile.

"You and my mother would get along just lovely," I said. Percy apparently realized this was an insult, if not the meaning behind it, and turned his nose in the air before trotting off. I turned back to Alkorov.

"Follow me," he said, with a crooked smile, and opened the door. Once inside, he said something that I couldn't hear and white light flared up around every door I saw, including the one we just entered as they spun in a continuous circle. "Now, this is something we only tell to senior members. Until you gain seniority, you must have one of us accompany you. Now, I apologize for this, but it is top secret."

Suddenly my ears were deafened completely, though I could see Alkorov shouting something. Suddenly the spinning stopped and the doors were still. Alkorov escorted me to a door on the left. In my new office, he left me. I turned around, taking it all in. It was a bit small, but furnished with just about every piece of equipment known to Muggle and wizard alike. I found a small cooling chamber containing twenty four bags of blood samples that I'd requested: Muggle, Squib, and magical. Perfection. I couldn't resist a quick spin to take it all in, before I sat down at the professional desk, plucked a quill from my bag, and began my research journal.

FPOV

The shop was incredibly crowded for a weekday, one of our first days with students, since they were all out of school. The little buggers were trying to pocket things right and left. Suddenly I was thankful for all the annoying afternoons Bill had spent here, ensuring security. He'd been quite full of himself once he'd finished.

"Only an excellent curse breaker will be able to get out of here with any of your goods," he had said, sounding satisfied. "And by that, I mean myself."

"Thanks dear brother," I had said.

"Now what is it that you want?" George had asked. Bill had glanced at us, but shrugged.

"The most I can do for brothers that got Aunt Muriel to stop coming to Christmas."

We still anticipated some sort of debt.

Now Bill's alarm went off every couple of minutes and our hassled clerks finally discovered a system of keeping one clerk at the register and one at the door to take back the stolen item and stop the security wall that shocked the thief incessantly until the item was placed back in either George's or my hands. I was having a great time though. Some of the kids were a right laugh, and some even had some great ideas, though none could beat our Skiving Snackboxes. They were a classic.

Around noon I happened to glance up halfway through returning an item to its shelf to see a familiar head of silvery blonde hair accompanied by a much taller head of dark brown open the door. Daniel, the clerk currently at the door gave Rian and Daisy an exasperated look when the door opened but broke into a relieved smile when he saw that there were no children within their party. Rian and Daisy, two of our best mates. They were both in our year, but as we'd left school early, we hadn't seen them for a few months. Neither Rian nor Daisy had had the opportunity to see the shop yet, especially since school had ended just last week. The seventh years were allowed to leave early, after their exams, but both girls had stayed behind: Rian most likely because she was Head Girl, her status reinstated once Umbridge was kicked out of the school, and Daisy most likely because Rian and Lee had stayed. Usually Lee was hanging somewhere around Daisy, but he had an early morning radio show, and sometimes he hung around there for a few hours after his show.

"Oy! Look who's here!" I called to George reflexively. George glanced up, and grinned when he saw to whom I was pointing. He broke off his sales pitch and headed over to our group.

Rian grinned as she spotted us, and forced her way through the crowd. Daisy was a few people behind her. They both looked unconcerned by the waves of children, anywhere from five to fifteen. Rian had her hair braided down the sides of her head and tucked in a neat bun at the base of her neck, and wore dark blue robes that were an interesting change from the usual black of Hogwarts. She looked fantastic, and I guessed she found her new job as enjoyable as I found mine.

"I thought you started work today," I said anyway.

"I did," she said happily. Her eyes were bright and warm, something that only happened when she was really happy; it took a lot to override their harsh metal colour. "It's my lunch break though and I've been dying to see the shop. I've been ordered by Ron to give you this," she handed me a small package I recognized as full of dung bombs, "and to bring back gifts for him and Ginny."

"Well we can manage that, can't we? Glad you could make it. You as well," I said to Daisy, handing the dung bombs to George, who smirked and stowed them in his pocket. I guessed that it was the pack we'd left in Ron's shoes.

"Dashing robes," said Rian, glancing at them and then at my hair. George and I herded them to the side to avoid an oncoming influx of children.

"You think so?" I asked teasingly, also looking at the magenta robes once we were out of harm's way. We'd picked them specifically for the reason that they clashed so brilliantly. Whimsical, George had said.

"Fred wanted to wear suits. I said to Fred, 'Fred, we have to look professional.' Compromise, eh?" said George now.

"I think they're perfect," she said sweetly. I rolled my eyes at her, because of her obvious sarcasm.

"First stop," I said, pointing to the love potions. A crowd of giggling girls left the stand quickly, glancing at us as we approached. Rian and Daisy both raised their eyebrows at us, smirking. "Courtesy of Miss Collins."

Rian's potion making was legendary; I often referred to her as the next Severus Snape, but she didn't seem to find the same humour in it that I did. Rian gave me a glare as she picked up a bottle, as if she knew what I was thinking.

"Good choice with the design," said Rian offhandedly. She uncorked the bottle she held and grinned as she took a whiff. "See, I _told_ you they wouldn't smell like a love potion. And here you doubted my abilities."

"Alright now, don't be so bigheaded. We've got your percent of the profits upstairs, Miss Smug."

"Don't be ridiculous. Keep it. Or buy me something nice," she said teasingly.

"Don't think we won't," I said.

"Keep it, he means," added George.

"What are these?" asked Daisy, laughing at the Pygmy Puffs.

"They're _adorable_," said Rian, picking one up. It squirmed for a moment in her hands and then relaxed.

"Pygmy Puffs. Take one. Take ten!"

"Fred," said Rian, rolling her eyes, but still grinning hugely. I saw Daisy glance at George knowingly. I resisted the urge to hex them both; that would surely give us away.

"I'm serious."

Rian replaced the Puff. "So am I. What's next?"

"Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, Skiving Snackboxes..." We went around the entire shop, and I felt immense satisfaction at Rian and Daisy's incredulous and admiring expressions and praise. Rian ended up ordering two Snackboxes, one for Ginny and one for Ron, commenting that she didn't know what else to get them. I figured it was just because they were around the cheapest items.

"This is fantastic, you two!" exclaimed Rian, spinning in a circle to take the entire shop in, her purchases in my hand. "Brilliant!"

"Wonderful!" added Daisy, looking delighted. "How'd you manage to pull it all off?"

"Daisy," I said, looping an arm around her shoulders. "Haven't you figured out by now..."

"That there isn't anything we can't do..." added George, sweeping his arm around her other side.

"When we put our minds to it?" I finished. "We're just that good."

She shook her head.

"Amazing," she muttered.

"I'd better be getting back," said Rian apologetically.

"The Leaky Cauldron," I said, grabbing her arm as she turned to leave. "Tonight? Say around...eight?"

She glanced at George and Daisy and then back at me. "Alright. Yeah. Eight. I'll see you then," she said, smiling. "Oh, wait! I'm supposed to tell you that your mum is making stew for tonight. It was implied that you should be there."

"Are you going?" I asked before I could stop myself. She smirked.

"You'll just have to see, won't you?" she asked and then hesitated. Finally she gave me a look of defeat; she didn't want to be in this position either. "Maybe we can go after?"

I resisted a victory dance.

"You, my good sir, are in far over your head," said Daisy as we watched Rian leave, and she and George smirked.

"Depends on which head you speak of," I said, returning their smirk and walking off before they could recover their wits.

Rian did indeed show up for dinner, along with Daisy, and I was surprised to see Bill show up as well...with Fleur Delacour of all people. There was no way to forget that tall, thin, silvery blonde frame that walked with more grace than a ballerina. Not that I was drooling, although Daisy gave both George and I a swift whack as we stood stock still in the doorway. That cleared our heads a bit.

"She works at Gringott's," muttered Daisy to George and me as we walked into the kitchen together. Rian already was seated at the table chatting with Dad and she waved when she saw us. She jerked her head towards Fleur and rolled her eyes. "Bill's been...helping her with her English every day at lunch."

My eyes widened in unprepared happiness. I thought Ron would go mad when he saw her, and he already had, repeatedly coming up with excuse after excuse to be in the same room with her. I could see Bill getting annoyed, though Fleur didn't seem to even notice.

"So, Bill," I said to him over dinner. Fleur was talking to Rian about Beauxbatons uniforms and Rian and Daisy looked positively bored. George and I had made use of their suffering by cornering Bill. "We never knew you were such an advocate of international magical cooperation."

"Helping a poor, friendless French girl with her English," said George.

"It's so chivalrous. I'm sure you've got only the best intentions."

"We've seen a girl who's working at Eeylops, and she can't speak a lick of English. Ugly as sin, but I'm _sure_ that wouldn't bother you."

"Want to help her as well?"

Bill glowered at the both of us. "Lay off, you two. She's just a friend, and Fleur began talking to me first. I'm innocent."

Fleur, apparently still oblivious to our conversation, slid her hand onto Bill's knee. Oh, this was far too easy.

"So you say."

Bill grimaced.

"Oh, Bill. Always such a heartbreaker, eh? And here we thought we'd end up courting the women of the world."

We continued on this train until Mum started cleaning up. She was irritated, that much was obvious. She snatched away my plate just as I was about to take a bite, and nearly knocked out one of Bill's teeth with his. George and I finally relinquished our grip on Bill and headed over to where Rian, Daisy, and Fleur sat in a corner. Ron headed upstairs along with Ginny, both having bent sent by Mum. Bill called Fleur away, and headed into the kitchen with Mum and Dad. We four glanced at each other and I quickly handed out the Extendable Ears. We stood against the living room wall and let them wriggle through the door frame.

"Ow!" we exclaimed in unison. As soon as the ears made contact with the kitchen floor, there was an immediate shock up the line. We stood rubbing our smarting ears morosely until Mum told us we could come in, and offered us tea. Bill grinned at us as we slunk into the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Reviews are better than chocolate chip cookies :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Later that evening, we said goodbye to Mum, Dad, Ginny, and Ron, and we all took off to the Leaky Cauldron. Bill and Fleur got their own table somewhere near the back of the pub, while we got as close to Tom, the bartender, as possible. The pub was much slower in business of late, but the service was all the better.

"Fancy a walk?" I asked Rian, somewhere around drink number three.

"Alright," she said, and we slipped away unnoticed, as George and Daisy were ordering another round. Diagon Alley was empty, but we could see plenty of activity coming from Knockturn, and we looked at each other in distaste because of it. The only noise came from Rian's slightly heeled shoes on the cobblestones as we walked down the street. Somehow we ended up in front of the joke shop, and Rian sat on the doorstep.

"Sad, isn't it?" she said, glancing around. "All this. Used to be you could find a party every night in the summer here. Now it's as empty as the pub."

Rian paused and I took the opportunity to sit beside her. "I think Bill was asking to include Fleur into the Order," she said. "Did you see how serious Bill was? Even Fleur shut up when he called her into the kitchen."

"Hmm," I said. This was an interesting thought, though I was too buzzed to really care. All I knew was that Bill had hoped we'd lay off him about Fleur because of the security system he'd installed. Sadly mistaken, he was, though we'd find some way to make it up to him. Possibly.

"I think I want to join," said Rian. "Soon, I mean."

_That_ I was able to focus on. For some reason, I was basely opposed to this plan. I didn't want Rian anywhere near the Order. "What do you mean, soon? You've just gotten out of school!"

She gave me a funny look. "So? You would have too, if you'd stayed. And you want to join as well, right?"

Whoops-a-daisy. "Er...Rian, there's something I've been meaning to tell you. George and I...we already joined. A few weeks ago."

Her eyes grew instantaneously wider. "What?" she shouted, standing quickly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We couldn't risk it," I said calmly, despite the fact that she looked angrier than a Hungarian Horntail.

"You had the book," Rian shouted again, referring to the two journals that allowed us to communicate solely with each other. "You could have used a code! I would have understood!"

"Stop shouting," I said. "You're attracting attention."

Reflexively she glanced around, and when she realized that nobody was around, she glowered at me. "Funny. _Hilarious_. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I did just now..."

"Were you _ever_ planning on telling me?"

"Sorry," I said. Rian swivelled and made as if to hit the wall. Apparently she decided that wasn't such a bright idea, because she turned back toward me.

"Right," she said. "Right, of course you couldn't tell me. I'm sorry, you're right. I just, it caught me off guard."

"I thought you were going to curse me," I said, grinning.

"My spell work gets a bit dodgy when I drink," she said, grimacing. She was constantly under the impression that because her spells were never as good as her potions, she was an awful witch.

"Your spell work is fine," I assured her. "Actually it's better than fine. Just not nearly as good as mine."

"Ah, I've missed your modesty. It's such a self-esteem booster," said Rian, smiling.

"I missed you as well," I said, stepping toward her. "Your sarcasm always makes me feel appreciated."

"I'm sure," she said, giving me a sarcastic glance, so to try and convince her, I pressed my lips against hers for quite a while.

"Missed me that much?" she asked, breathing heavily.

"I've missed you a lot more than that."

* * *

RPOV

I'd missed Fred more than I cared to admit, and I almost thought that I missed kissing him more. It was intoxicating and addicting, and the last time it had happened, he'd been about to take off with George, and that had been a surprise. At the end of last summer, when I'd gotten my Head Girl badge, Fred and George had taken great offense to it, and his sudden affection had made the intoxication even more intoxicating.

"_Hogwart's letters!" I called, walking through the doorway. Hermione grabbed hers out of my hands before I could blink, and she tore it open with a gasp. _

"_Prefect!" she gasped, shaking the badge into her hand. "I've been made Prefect!"_

"_Congratulations!" I told her sincerely. _

"_That's great, Hermione," said Ginny enthusiastically. _

"_I'll bet anything that Harry got one! I'm going to go check." She flew out of the room, dropping her supplies list on the floor. I picked it up and handed Ginny her letter. Setting Hermione's letter on her bed, I noticed that my own letter seemed a bit heavier than normal. That worried me. Was the coursework that intense that I'd need so much extra information? That reminded me about the paper I needed to begin for Transfiguration. Groaning, I opened the envelope and pulled out the contents. _

"_Oh, no."_

"_What?" asked Ginny, glancing over at me. I didn't move, so she walked over and peered at the object I held. "Oh, no."_

_I looked at her with horror-struck eyes. "Ginny, _please_ don't tell them. At least not right away. If I wait to tell them-"_

"_Tell us what?" asked Fred, further opening the already open door. I whipped the badge behind my back. _

"_Nothing," I said. "Nothing at all." My voice was high and I knew my face was probably bright red. _

_Fred gave me a derisive yet slightly amused look. "Accio!"_

"_No!" I shouted, as the badge zoomed into his hand. He caught it, laughing. The sound cut off abruptly when he examined it. _

"_Head...Girl?" he asked. I swallowed. _

"_Our own brother a Prefect..." said George, looking at Fred in disbelief. _

"_We can handle that shame," said Fred, scowling. "But our best mate?" _

"_We reckoned we'd trained you better," said George, tossing the badge back to me. I tossed it on the bed and crossed my arms, leaning back against the wall. _

"_All you have to say?" I asked them, annoyed. "Or is there some other snide comment I should anticipate?"_

"_Anticipate many," said Fred. "We want to know when you'll start inspecting cauldron bottoms."_

_He was referring to Percy's Ministry of Magic obsession. They both snickered and I threw the badge at them. _

"_Prats," I muttered, slamming the door behind them. "There isn't a resignation for this kind of thing, is there?" I asked Ginny. _

_She shook her head. "Sorry. They'll lighten up soon."_

"_Like hell they will. I can handle them being prats, but they'll be sure to test me this year, and I don't want to have to deal with it."_

_Ginny was silent, most likely trying to think of comforting words. "Good luck," she said finally, patting me on the back with a slight grimace. _

_That night at dinner, I morosely picked at my food. Fred and George sat at the other end of the table. I'd avoided them all day, sure I'd hear Head Girl jokes and Percy comparisons whenever they were in the room, but they seemed to be avoiding me as well. Tonks had willingly begun her impressions to cheer me up, but I wasn't in the mood. _

"_Everything alright, Rian?" asked Lupin curiously, noticing this. "Molly's told me you've been made Head Girl. Congratulations!"_

"_Thanks," I muttered. Lupin's brow creased, but then Fred and George let out identical brays of laughter and he glanced at me knowingly. _

"_Ah," he said. "That is a problem, isn't it?"_

_I grinned in spite of myself, then grimaced as they laughed again._

"_Well, maybe they'll listen to you for a change," he said light heartedly. _

"_In all honesty, I'm just going to avoid them as much as possible." I was sure the look on my face was frighteningly sad. _

"_Why?" he asked, looking genuinely confused. I thought he'd understand. In any case, I leaned in closer to him, sure Mrs. Weasley would not approve of what I was going to say. _

"_Well, if I wasn't Head Girl, I'd most likely be doing whatever they were, including any breaking of the rules. I don't want to punish them for doing something I'd be doing."_

"_While I shouldn't condone your rule-breaking," he said wryly, "I think I understand. I was in the same position with James and Sirius."_

"_They didn't mind so much, though, did they? Fred and George...they'd never listen to me."_

"_You'd be surprised. Give them a chance, Sirius and James weren't very fond of my being Prefect, but they didn't give me too much trouble."_

"_Well, Remus, you were never as much of a stickler for the rules as Rian is," said Sirius, overhearing our conversation and kneeling between us. _

"_Hey," I said indignantly. "I am very, _very_ good at breaking the rules."_

"_But not when you're in charge, I'll bet," said Sirius with a grin. My indignant expression faded. _

"_You'll figure it out," said Lupin, his mouth twitching. "When James got Head Boy, we went easy on him after a few weeks. And we could talk to the boys if you want."_

"_Don't even think about it," I hissed, my eyes wide in horror, and they both laughed._

_Their words had given me some hope, but as pessimistically as I had anticipated, the twins mocked me incessantly once we reached school, and I gradually lessened my time around them, though they seemed to take great pleasure in flaunting their disregard of the rules in front of me. I was always pressed with an intense desire to curse them both, but something always got in the way of it, and I couldn't bring myself to use my position to punish them. It was the beginning of April, a few days after their birthday ( a late and noisy occasion), when I finally went off on them both, deciding that maybe cursing them wasn't the best option._

"_Listen, I know that you two don't really respect me for this position," I burst. "But I was obviously considered to be the best person for the job, and I'm going to do my damn best to do it justice. Look, all I asked for this year was for you to not give me reason to punish you. Because, honestly, I don't fancy it. If it weren't for this damn badge, I'd probably be doing whatever it is you're doing as well. But you couldn't even do that for me. You couldn't even try to hide it from me. Why did you have to do it, taunt me? I specifically gave you room, stayed out of the way so you two could continue._

"_I did everything I possibly could, but I can't just ignore you two when you break the rules right in front of me! If I did, then no one would listen to me! I know you two can't stand authority figures, but if you haven't noticed, they're a bit necessary. Just because you can take care of yourselves _doesn't_ mean everyone else can!"_

_I took a few deep breaths. "I have to give you detention," I said tightly. "I don't know what else to do...I honestly thought you'd lighten up by now. But Hermione's right, you just...you just can't go around making up your own rules." _

_Their expressions turned from offense to anger. Both simply turned and walked away, not even bothering to answer me. _

"_What's wrong?" asked Daisy, for the thousandth time, the next night when Fred and George had detention. All day, they'd avoided me like the plague, only providing scathing glances when they noticed me looking at them. Detention wasn't what bothered them, it was the fact that I gave it to them. It wouldn't be nearly as bad if it wasn't with Umbridge, but she'd gotten wind of their detention, and had jumped on the opportunity like a frog on a fly. _

"_I gave Fred and George detention, and Umbridge made me write them into hers," I muttered. She glanced up from her bed and recognition crossed her face. _

"_Ah," she said slowly. _

"_What?"_

"_They wouldn't tell me who it was," she explained._

"_So stupid," I muttered, burying my head in the pillow. "What was I thinking?"_

"_You're in control," she said firmly. "They need to respect that."_

"_My position's a joke to them," I said, my voice muffled by the pillow. "Nothing I did was going to help alleviate that. Now I've just made it worse."_

"_They tormented you all year," she said, still firm. "It isn't your fault you got this. It isn't anyone's fault, come to that. It's a privilege, one you deserve. This was excellent for you, and what did they do? They acted like a couple of gits. Let them see you mean business."_

"_Business?" I asked. "One night of detention isn't going to make a bit of difference to them."_

"_Let it go," she advised. "We'll be out of school in a few months."_

"_But if we end on bad terms!" I cried. _

"_Then fix it after school ends. You'll all be working...school drama will be finished. They're not going to care who gave who detention."_

"_I suppose."_

"_Don't dwell on it," said Daisy. "They're the immature prats, they have to grow up sometime."_

_She was only saying it to try and comfort me. They were her friends as well. Apparently she was better friends with them than I was of late. _

"_I know. But I still want them to be my friends, however immature they are."_

"_Rian," she said seriously. "Don't think too much on it. School is what is important. You need to study, and you can't have them distracting you like this. Worry about it later. I only say this because I know you. If you get distracted from studying, you'll hate yourself later. So just let it go. Clear your mind. Then come to terms with them after exams." Daisy sat on my bed, picking up and flipping through my magazine. She held up a picture in an attempt to distract me. "You should do your hair like this, it'd look really nice."_

"_Mhm." I stared up at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that it would be alright. I heard her set down the magazine. _

"_Alright. Ri, you obviously aren't going to be happy until you talk to them. They're in detention tonight, go and meet them."_

_I glanced at her. _

"_Just go," she said, shoving me off the bed. I landed on the floor. _

"_Bloody hell, girl!" I said, wincing as I sat up. "Alright, alright. I'm going..."_

_I waited around the corner for Fred and George, mentally trying to figure out what the hell I was going to say. I wanted to apologize, but as I watched nearly twenty people leave Umbridge's detention without them, I wondered if they somehow knew I was there, and were avoiding me. I walked closer to her room and heard a small sniffle in an out-of-the-way corridor. Then I heard voices. _

"_It doesn't hurt, it just makes me angry," a boy said. I poked my head around the corner to see Fred crouched next to a small first year. George had his hand on the boy's shoulder. _

"_What's your name?" asked Fred kindly. _

"_John," the boy whispered. _

"_You tested our products for us, didn't you?" _

_John nodded. _

"_Well, it's alright, John. Your scar will be gone before you know it," Fred told him._

"_But I'm a Gryffindor," John said desperately. "I'm supposed to be brave."_

"_You are," George assured him. "Can I tell you a secret?"_

_John nodded. I saw Fred take out a small vial of a purplish liquid and, tearing off a piece of his robes, empty it onto the cloth. He then pressed it against John's hand, who winced but didn't move. _

"_Girls fancy it when boys cry sometimes." _

"_Really?" asked John. _

"_Really," said George, winking. _

"_Are you sure?" asked John worriedly, wiping away a tear. _

"_Of course we're sure," said Fred. _

_I rounded the corner, trying to be subtle, but Fred looked up, half a smile on his face. George glanced up as well, but I couldn't read his expression. John stared up at me in confusion. _

"_So what did you do?" George asked John, before he could say anything. I sat next to Fred, glancing at him nervously. He looked at me with a grin. I nearly toppled over._

"_I...I told her that I thought it was a better idea to practice spells than just read them," John answered George. "Everyone keeps talking about the other teachers, and how cool the class used to be. I just wanted to do a bit of magic."_

"_Same thing we've been saying all year, mate," said George sympathetically. _

"_Don't let it get out that I said this, but it might have been better to have kept your mouth shut about that," whispered Fred. "How does that feel?" _

"_Better," said John, sniffling. "Thanks."_

_We heard clicking heels and we all straightened up to see Umbridge walking down the hallway. "Shouldn't you all be off to bed?"_

_I stood up, along with Fred. George circled around behind us. In some way we were shielding John even though he stood up as well._

"_Just as soon as we cure John here's battle scars," said Fred scathingly, narrowing his eyes at Umbridge. _

"_Battle scars?" she asked, with a trilling laugh. "I hardly think so. That is merely the punishment he receives for speaking against an authority figure."_

"_So opinions are against the rules now?" I muttered. Her satisfied smirk flickered, and she gave us all a very dark look. _

"_Miss Collins, as Head Girl I expected more of you. You came most highly recommended. I thought when you gave me their detentions, you'd seen reason at last." My mouth dropped open. "Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley. You'll find that discipline is a key essential in creating a good handler of magic and-"_

"_Discipline, yeah," interrupted George furiously. "See McGonagall for discipline."_

"_But somehow I doubt torture creates a 'good handler of magic'," said Fred sarcastically. _

"_Bed!" said Umbridge shrilly, and turned around, stalking off. We stared after her in a fury, though the twins suddenly turned. _

"_So it was you that gave us detention with her!" said Fred angrily. _

"_Of course it wasn't! I went to give it to McGonagall and she was there. She took your detention," I said furiously in return. "Why would I _ever_ give you detention with that hag?"_

_Both twins hesitated. Fred seemed to make a decision. "John, why don't you go with George? We'll meet you back in the Common Room." Fred beckoned to me and we pulled away from them, down a stairwell. As soon as they were out of earshot, I began profusely apologizing. _

"_Fred, I swear I didn't give you to her for detention, I swear. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you last night and I shouldn't have given you detention in the first place. I was just..."_

"_Stressed. We know. You don't have to apologize. Listen, I'm sorry. George and I both are. We were prats this year. This past week especially." He shook his head. "You were right. Being prefect or Head Girl or Boy isn't our cup of tea, but it meant a lot to you, and if we hadn't pressed you for so long, you wouldn't have had to snap. You were right to discipline us. We just...didn't want to admit it."_

_I'd never heard a real apology from Fred, let alone such a longwinded and thorough one. I just stared at him. "Pardon?" I asked, not quite sure I was hearing correctly. _

"_I think you got the gist of it," said Fred, though he grinned. _

"_No, really, I think I need to hear that again."_

_He dramatically sighed. "I really am sorry. We were gits, blah, blah, blah. Look, in all honesty, I just wish we could've spent more time together..."_

"_Where are we going?" I asked quickly, looking in front of us, because I was sure my face was hot pink. He, however, seemed to take great pleasure in my embarrassment, for he bounded along next to me with enthusiasm._

"_To the kitchens. I'm starving and I think we butterbeer would do wonders for us all."_

"_Boys," I muttered. "Do you think about anything besides food?" _

"_Nope. We are primal beings. What else is there to think about?"_

"_The fact that Umbridge is hurting children! I mean, insolent teenagers that can get revenge are one thing, but children! Have you ever seen a first year in her detention? She's getting worse. This is torture," I fumed. "She's sadistic! I mean, writing in your own blood? It's beyond cruel!"_

_Fred put a hand on my arm and swung me around. _

"_What?" I demanded irately. _

"_Hey..." Then he winced as I tried shoving his hands off. "Ow!" he said, shaking his hand. I glanced at it to see his scar crusted over with freshly dried blood._

"_Oh, Fred," I said, gasping. It looked really, really bad, especially when it began oozing murky fluid. "You used the last of your murtlap essence on John, didn't you?" I said quietly, looking at his hand. _

"_So?" he shrugged, trying to shake off my grip. I held tight. _

"_That was sweet, Fred. It really was. But you've been in detention more than anyone and you've been giving your potion to everyone else for the past few detentions, I know you have. It's going to get infected if you don't soak it," I said and took his injured hand in both of mine, smiling as he glared. "I could make you some more..."_

_We stared at each other silently for a moment. _

"_Blimey, you take the 'responsibility' part far too seriously," he said, pulling away finally. _

"_I was just trying to help you," I said, embarrassed. He took my own scarred hand in his, tracing the new skin. "And I'm sorry too. For giving you detention with her. I dunno what the hell was going through my mind. That was completely out of line and..."_

_I jerked my hand away from him as his fingers curved around my palm, but he held firm. He put a hand on my face and I hesitated. I looked up at him, and saw his brown eyes (which, for the record, were much like dark rum), and did not even fight when he pressed his lips against mine._

_Trying to stop my frantically beating heart, I pulled away. It was scary to kiss Fred. I didn't have the chance to brace myself. Instead, it felt like I was freefalling. It was exhilarating and incredible, but at the same time I was terrified every second. At the moment, I could have passed out. "Let's...let's go get some butterbeer," I said breathlessly. _

"_Is that all you can think about?" he asked, but did start walking again. We sneaked down to the kitchens. I kept watch around the corner as Fred tickled the giant pear, and we slipped inside. After being graciously loaded down with treats, we snuck back upstairs to find the Common Room empty. _

_I dumped the treats on Fred, and he ran up the stairs to the boy's dormitory. He came back down moments later. "John fell asleep in the Common Room so George took him up to bed. See you in the morning?"_

"_I...yeah, of course. 'Night." _

"_G'night," said Fred, pecking me on the cheek and heading upstairs. It was several moments before I could find the ability to move, and even then my steps up the stairs were mostly a lot of staggering. _

_The next morning, George slid in to the seat next to me in Potions. _

"_Hey," he said. Lee sat next to Fred, across the classroom and Angelina found a seat next to Daisy. Different from normal, but not bad. Not bad at all._

"_Hey, George. How...er...how was detention?" I immediately cursed myself. I might as well have asked him how he felt about being beaten by the Whomping Willow. Actually, that would have been preferable. George's mouth twitched. _

"_Uh...it was lovely. Practically a picnic. Actually, I wanted to apologize. I'm really sorry for...everything. And, I mean, detention wasn't that bad. Since we knew it was from you. And since we'd done something to actually deserve it. Forgive me?" asked George. However, I just stared again. George was more generous with apologies than Fred, but they still weren't frequent. I wondered if this was all a dream._

"_Nothing to forgive," I said anyway. _

"_I'm glad," he said, looking at me in a sad sort of way. I stared, waiting for him to explain, but Snape began class, and there was no time for talking, at least not for people who wanted a decent grade. _

"_Hey Daisy..." I began, after I spotted Fred a few people ahead. _

"_Go on," she said, rolling her eyes. She hung back to talk with George as I caught up with Fred. For some reason, falling back into my friendship with George had been as easy as breathing and I felt fine about us now. However, with Fred I felt there were some strings that needed to be clipped. I should have known it didn't work that way with him. _

"_Listen, Fred, about last night..."_

"_We're leaving, Ri," said Fred, looking down at me. I continued walking, sure I'd just misheard what he said. But when he didn't grin, or take it back, or say anything, it sort of clicked, and I stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. A bag, six shoulders, and twelve elbows hit me in the ten seconds I stood there. Fred seemed to realize that I needed time to process the information, and didn't press me. _

_Leaving? Leaving Hogwarts? No, leaving Umbridge. She'd taken anything worthwhile for them, and they weren't going to waste their time here. I couldn't blame them at all. Quidditch, the D.A., Dumbledore, fun..._

_Though I already hated Umbridge, my fury increased. There was nothing more she could do to make me hate her more. "I _shouldn't_ be surprised," I said, starting to walk again, but slowly. _

"_We figure that we don't need to be here anymore; Umbridge is taking away everything worthwhile, and it's not like we really need our N.E.W.T.s-"_

"_You don't have to explain," I interrupted as tears pricked the back of my eyes. "I mean, I know why you're leaving. Doesn't mean I like it any more."_

"_Rian," said Fred, looking sincerely sorry. "I don't like leaving you. But I'm not going to stay here wasting my time. You have advantages from completing a fulltime education; I don't."_

_Even in my current misery, I felt a rush of blood on my face and a drop in my stomach when he said 'I don't like leaving you'. Me. He felt bad about leaving me. "I know," I said. "I'm surprised you lasted this long, actually."_

"_Well, like we told Hermione, we tried to lay low while people studied for their exams." He gave me a pointed look. "But we want to go out with a bang, so to speak." _

_We were already late to our class, which I realized by the sudden clearing of the hallway. So I walked over to one of the benches and sat down, setting my books next to me. They were balanced unsteadily, and most fell to the ground. I left them._

"_When?" I asked miserably. Hogwarts was going to be unbearable without him. I mean, without them. Right. Without them. My two best friends. _

"_A few days probably."_

_Days? I sniffled and Fred looked at me, alarmed. _

"_Are you crying?"_

"_No," I said, cursing when my voice broke. _

"_You're going to miss us that much?" he asked, grinning. _

"_I'm _not_ crying," I said, glaring at him. His grin widened. _

"'_Course not," said Fred._

"_Well, what do you expect?" I demanded defensively. "You two are my best mates, and without you, Hogwarts is going to be completely worthless."_

"_Poor Daisy," he said, shaking his head. "And Lee. Wait until I tell them you think they're worthless."_

"_Oh shut up," I said, elbowing him in the arm. He winced, which cheered me up a bit. "You know what I mean. I'll just really, really," I thought of the kiss last night, "__**really**__ miss you. What are you going to do, anyway?"_

"_We've got the money from Harry that we told you about, and we think we've got a good place in Diagon Alley that we can open up. George sent out the order a few weeks ago, and we own the place now. We were going to wait...but why not get a head start, eh?"_

"_That's great," I said, glancing at the ground. "You never told me you got a place."_

_He gave me a sarcastic look. "We did-oh." His eyes widened. "Er...well, as we weren't...I mean, it was a quick...and it was a secretive sort...I'm sorry."_

_Trying to brush off the hurt, I shook my head and attempted a smile. "Your mum is going to be angry," I said. _

"_Yeah, well, hopefully we'll be successful. Then she'll approve."_

_It was quiet. _

"_Fred, there's something I've meant to tell you. And since you're leaving, it's probably better anyway..." I met his eyes as a rush of excited terror filled my stomach. "Fred, I think I-"_

"_Why aren't you two in class?" came Umbridge's shrill voice. "Detention!"_

_We turned toward her. I was wrong, there was something she could do that could make me hate her more._

"_Miss Collins!" she gasped, flustered. She collected herself while I watched, annoyed beyond belief. "Lately you have been most irresponsible. I cannot idly stand by and watch your flagrant disregard for my rules and my authority. Your Head Girl status is hereby revoked."_

_My jaw dropped. It was a very good thing my wand was in my schoolbag, because if it had been in my pocket, I'm not sure I could've resisted cursing her. She had no right to take that away-_

"_Oy," said Fred warningly, glaring at Umbridge, though he also gave me a glance, guessing what I was thinking. _

"_Do you have something to say Mr. Weasley?" she asked, sickeningly sweet. I stepped on Fred's foot and he shut his mouth. "You and your brother have caused more than enough trouble during my position. I am not Professor Dumbledore. I will not stand for this blatant disrespect for the rules. Your next misstep will be your last, I assure you."_

"_Better make it a good one then, eh?" I said sarcastically, glancing at Fred, who stared at me with a mixture of pride and disbelief. Umbridge, apparently unable to find a response to this, huffed and walked away. "Make it a good one, will you?"_

"_Oh we will," he swore, staring fiercely after Umbridge. The strain in his voice made my heart leap, so I stepped close and pressed my lips to his. He looked so shocked when I stepped away that I couldn't help but smile. _

"_Just don't leave without saying good-bye, alright?" I asked, and then turned to our classroom, still smiling as I shut the door behind us. Professor McGonagall didn't even look up to glare, though she stopped by my desk as class ended and gave Fred and me an appraising look. _

"_I trust you will not be late to my class again?" she asked, though she didn't look angry. This was the first time Fred had sat with me in her class all year, and I sensed approval. _

"_Extenuating circumstances, Professor," said Fred. "Doubtful to happen again."_

_Her lips twitched. "Be sure it doesn't."_

"_Good-bye," shouted Fred, running up to me a few days later, in between classes. George followed close behind. I stared at them for a moment, confused. Then I realized that this was most likely the last time I'd see them the rest of the year. _

"_Ah," I said sadly. "Good-bye."_

"_Don't be upset," said George cheerfully. "We've got a wonderful surprise planned."_

"_You'll love it," Fred assured me. _

"_It'll be like Christmas."_

"_But better."_

"_And don't forget you're going to visit us every day," said George cheerfully._

"_Once you're out of school," Fred conceded. I decided to save tears for later. It wouldn't do to have my last few moments marred with impaired vision. I threw my arms around George's neck, and pecked his cheek. _

"_We'll send you letters," he swore, glancing at Fred. "Long ones, we promise."_

"_And stuff from the store," added Fred as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He kissed me briefly on the lips. _

"_I love you two."_

"_We love you," they chorused. A ridiculous hug ensued. _

"_Now, as a parting gift," Fred said with a flourish, handing me a package, rectangular and thin, like a book. I crushed it to my chest. _

"_Thanks."_

_A shrill voice echoed down the hallway. _

"_Is that Umbridge I hear?" George asked, cocking an ear toward the hallway. _

"_Duty calls," they said, saluting me. I saluted back, expecting them to march off, but Fred swept me into a dramatic kiss, backbend and all. I could hardly breathe when they finally left. _

_That night, behind the safety of my bed curtains and with everyone else asleep, I opened the present from Fred and George. Underneath the wrapping was a folded piece of parchment. I lifted it up and unfolded it, reading the contents. It was Fred's handwriting._

**_Rian—_**

**_We know we've already apologized, but we wanted to do it again, to try and make up for being such prats to you this year. So here are our late congratulations on making Head Girl. If anyone deserved, it was you. We just hope you'll forgive us someday. You really did a marvellous job._**

**_We left the address to our shop here, even though we know the old hag will never let your letters out or ours in. So, we've spent the last month or so designing your present, once we figured out we were leaving. Go on, open it if you haven't already__. _**

_I opened the box. Inside was a thick, bound book, and as I flipped through it, it was completely blank. I looked back at the letter, hoping it would explain. I could practically see Fred's grin. _

**_Confused? We borrowed the idea from our fourth year, when Ginny had that awful journal...we know what you're thinking but we made this ourselves. Free of dark magic, we guarantee. Anyway, all you have to do is write in it, and it'll be like writing to us. We've made a second journal, and we'll get all the answers here. As a warning, close the book after every conversation, and say "mischief managed," or anyone can read the conversations. We stole that as well, but it was pretty good, so we couldn't resist. We can write back too. Hope you like it. Lots of love,_**

**_Fred Weasley_**

**_George Weasley_**

That was the last time I'd seen them until today. Now, I was facing George, who stared at us with a smirk. "See you two made up for lost time," he said, sidestepping us and unlocking the door to the shop. "Enjoy," he said wickedly.

"Well that's embarrassing," I said as the door closed. "I should be off anyway."

"Ah, don't let that great oaf stop you," said Fred. "He's just jealous that he doesn't have a pretty girl to kiss..."

"He only thinks I don't," shouted George from inside.

"Your great-aunt doesn't count," I yelled to George.

"That was my joke first," he called back.

"I really do have to go," I said to Fred, grinning. I stepped forward and hugged him. He held me close as well, and I smiled. "It was fantastic seeing you again."

"We'll just have to see each other some more then, eh?" said Fred, grinning as I shoved him toward the door.

"I wish I could resist, just to give you a smidgen of humility."

"Ah, but that'd ruin my character. Or is it just the snogging you like?" asked Fred. I pretended to consider.

"Well...yeah, just the snogging."

"Get out of here," said Fred, grinning and pointing toward the street. "Go tear out some other man's heart."

"Ah, tragic. My specialty," I said with a dramatic flourish. "I'll be off now. Goodnight, dear sir."

"Goodnight, my lovely lady. The moon cries for jealousy of your beauty."

"Remind me never to let you drink around me again," I said fondly, and Disapparated.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Please review? Pretty please with sugar on top?

Disclaimer: No matter how much I wish it to be so, I do not own "Harry Potter"

* * *

The rest of the summer went fairly quickly. We each fell into our own routines, and nightly meetings at the Leaky Cauldron became a tradition quite soon as well, giving the pub most of its business. It was a different crowd each night, but the core group was primarily Oliver Wood, the old captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and rising member of Puddlemere United; Angelina Johnson, a fellow Chaser and now Healer-in-training; Daisy, now an intern at Gringott's; Lee Jordan, with his own radio talk show; Fred, George, and me. Others came around every so often, but most people from our year had started on a year long journey, somewhere far from England. Those older than us always came to our meetings with stories of their own adventures.

As for Fred and me, we became somewhat of an item, mostly meaning that we kissed quite a bit, and it stayed at that point for a long time. Nothing really changed until the end of the summer: a late night in August, a few weeks after I'd joined the Order, I walked into the Leaky Cauldron quiet and morose, not really engaging in any of the conversations. Fred finally pulled me outside, and though I tried to evade his questions, my attempts at a lie were dismal at best.

"My mum and I got into a fight," I admitted finally, on the London side of the pub. Much like the pub, London seemed to be relatively quiet for a Friday, and only occasionally did we have to quiet for a passerby. I glanced up at Fred, who looked relieved by my statement.

He laughed, really and truly relieved. "Oh, is that all?"

"All?" I asked in disbelief, sitting on the curb.

"It can't have been that bad," he said easily.

"Fancy a bet?" I asked, rubbing my eyes with my palms.

"Hey then, speak up," he said, looking slightly concerned as he sat beside me.

"It's not that easy," I said, grimacing at the ground. "I mean, you're not going to understand it unless...blimey. There's a lot to say. Alright, Fred, listen: I have some things that I need to tell you...and you're not going to like any of it."

I could see the look in his eyes, the look that said that this was more than he'd prepared himself for when he'd pulled me outside, but he nodded anyway.

"I can handle it."

"Handling it's not the problem," I said. "It's more the fact that I don't want you to hate me for it."

He didn't promise not to hate me. In fact, he looked worried that I was considering that he might. "Well, if it's this important then you should probably tell-"

"I don't know where to begin. It's complicated."

"Start from the fight," he prompted. I glanced at him, wishing I hadn't brought this up. He was particularly attractive tonight, his hair lying right for once, and his nice trousers and button down shirt from the meeting with the Muggle salesmen still on his person. It would have been so much easier to end this conversation and just kiss. I sighed heavily and began speaking reluctantly.

"I think I need to start earlier. My mum...she's not what you think she is. She isn't...she's...I mean, you know she is part of the Malfoy family, and that I am too. Sort of."

He was starting to put something together, and his forehead crinkled. A weight like a cannon ball hit my stomach. Part of me wished that he'd figure it out so I didn't have to explain it, and part of me never wanted him to figure it out. "Yeah..."

"Well, my dad was a part of the Order, during the last war. When he married my mum, he thought she was different. That she'd gotten over being a Pure-Blood, being a Malfoy. And maybe she had, for a little while. But really, she wasn't, even though she hid it from him for years. Or maybe living with a Muggleborn made her realize she wasn't...I dunno. Anyway, they got into a fight one day, and I think she said something that made him realize it, and I don't know what happened, but I'm sure she went to her brother, my uncle, Lucius...Austin says that the next day our dad was dead, and my mother took us and left London."

Most of this came out in a rush while I'd been looking at the ground. Now I glanced up nervously, hoping he'd not understand the possibilities of what I'd said. The possibility that I could be just like my mother. The possibility that we shouldn't be together.

"You never told us," said Fred, a look of horror on his face. He hadn't understood yet, but then he probably hadn't had time to think about it either.

"Yeah, that's something I really want to tell people when I'm making friends," I said, laughing nervously.

"Oh, right," he said sarcastically. "You've just been 'making friends' with us for the past seven years? I'm your best mate, now your boyfriend. And you never said _anything_."

"I know," I said quietly. "I was scared, I didn't want you to think I was the same way. It's not something you brag about."

Well, I didn't have to worry about him figuring it out since I'd just spelled it out for him.

"You spent entire summers with us, nearly every break! We're practically family." demanded Fred, and then he blinked. "Wait. Did my...did my parents know?"

I looked up at him miserably. "They knew. Your mum told me last year that when you two had started making friends with me, she knew it would go one of two ways: I'd end up like my mother, or I'd turn out alright. She...she took a chance on me, and I will never forget that. But that's why I was so nervous about joining the Order. Everyone knows what my mum did, and they might think that I was the same. Austin...he's so much like my dad, so open and hopeful, that I doubt anyone questioned it. But I am like my mother, and I think a lot of people, especially my father's friends noticed that. Especially since I still live with her."

"Why do you still live with her?" he asked, and he was furious. He stood up and walked in an aggravated circle. "Why is this the first time I'm hearing about this? You don't keep something this important from your best mate!"

"I'm sorry. I just didn't even want you to think about the possibility," I whispered.

"Well I sure as hell am now!" he yelled.

"What?" I asked, standing. There was a sickened feeling in my stomach and my chest felt tight. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You...well maybe you didn't lie, but you sure as hell didn't tell the truth. I thought I could trust you implicitly. And now...I dunno...maybe you are more like your mother than you realize."

"Don't say that!" I shouted at him, and my eyes prickled. He just shook his head at me, running his hands through his hair. "Don't you _dare_ say that. Take it back, right now. I will _never_ be like her."

"And how am I supposed to believe that?" he asked, heading for the door. "I don't even feel like I'm talking to Rian."

"Why? It's still me! And anyway, I thought I was supposed to move on, forget about bad things in my past. Isn't that what everyone is told when they had a dodgy childhood?"

"Ri, your past is still with you. Every day when you walk into that bloody house. And moving on _doesn't_ mean hiding it from your mates. I...I dunno what I'm supposed to think now." And he turned and went inside. I couldn't go after him, because I didn't know what I was supposed to be thinking either. I didn't know what I wanted to say to him. I stood on the doorstep of the Leaky Cauldron, aghast. This was what I'd hoped to avoid for more than seven years. And now it was all for naught. I should have told them, the first summer I'd stayed with them.

We didn't talk for two weeks. George had come to visit me once or twice, and he hadn't seemed too upset after I'd explained, but he said that Fred was hurt because he considered himself the closest person to me.

"He is," I said, clenching my fist angrily. I felt awful, beyond hurting him. Because now he did think exactly what I'd always feared he would.

"What brought the topic up, anyway?" asked George, shaking his head at the tea I offered him.

"He was trying to get me to talk to him. My mum and I got into a fight that night, and she told me I'd end up just like my father. I didn't...I still don't know if she meant the Order part, or the dead part." My voice caught for a second on the end. George sat frozen in his seat.

The front door opened, and footsteps walked across the wood floor. "I didn't realize we had company." My mother examined George with a slight air of disdain, and I was suddenly pulled back to my first day of Hogwarts. We'd seen the Weasley family getting on the train, and she'd had the same attitude, the same condescending air. George picked up on it and stared back at her coldly.

"Well, occasionally people do like to engage in civil conversation," I said frigidly. "Don't worry, a few more months of a paycheck and I'll be out of your hair."

"I'm sure you will," she said with a smirk. Chills ran up my spine as she headed up the stairs.

"I think you should go," I said to George, watching her go.

"But-" he began, touching my arm gently.

"I mean it," I said. "I really think you should go. I'll stop by the shop sometime..."

"Rian," he said wearily. "I don't feel right-"

"You don't have to. I'll be fine. Now get going. You've got dinner with your parents," I said, smiling slightly.

"You know you're welcome to come."

"I'm not ready to talk to Fred yet," I said, sighing.

George stared. "You're going to risk your life because you're scared to talk to my brother?"

I shrugged. "You know Fred when he's angry," I said dryly. "Death or an angry Fred? That's fairly easy."

"That wasn't funny."

"Oh, come on, lighten up. She's waited this long." I didn't mention that I hadn't slept since we'd had the fight.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're always welcome at our place," said George finally. "Half of it's mine as well, we'll just hide from Fred."

"Knowing you, you'd lock us both in a room together," I said wryly. He didn't deny it.

George cheered me up a bit, and when he left I didn't feel quite as nervous as I headed up to my room. My mother was nowhere to be found, but this wasn't unusual. What was unusual was what I saw when I walked into the house three days later.

She was dead, lying on the floor of the entryway, open eyes glassed over. I stood there, unable to move for several seconds as the picture processed in my mind. It wasn't until I started shaking violently that I considered pulling out my wand. I did so now, and turned the corner into the kitchen. A hooded figure sat in my favourite kitchen chair, the one with the phoenix carved into the leg. We stared at each other, unmoving for several seconds, until we seemed to move together.

It was frightening, how easily it came to me. There was hardly even enough movement to constitute a fight. We shouted the spell, one spell, at the same moment, and his bolt of green missed. Mine didn't.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Keep the reviews coming! Any ideas or comments you have (constructive criticism, not slamming), I'd love to hear! Thanks guys. Here's something funny I found the other day:

Two fish are in a tank together. One says to the other, "do you know how to drive this thing?"

Well, I thought it was funny. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. As if that wasn't obvious.

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He fell to the floor, without grace, dignity, or control. His whole body simply collapsed over, and he didn't move again. Even the air seemed to stand still until my wand fell from my hand and hit the floor with a clink. That sort of awoken me. I stumbled backward, gasping, until I fell. Even then I scooted back, horrified at what I'd done. I could see his eyes: they stared straight at me, blank and unblinking. I froze, waiting for them to blink.

Forcing myself to look away, I stood up slowly and walked forward to grab my wand. As I reached for it, I couldn't help but envision his hand reaching out and grabbing mine. It was all too real, so, stifling a scream, I grabbed up my wand and ran for the front door. As I reached the entryway I saw my mother's form lying still as well. Covering my mouth to prevent another scream, I jumped over it and swung open the door. Dim light flooded in. As soon as I hit the cool outside air, I slammed the door shut behind me and turned, staring at the house, breathing heavily and at the same time feeling suffocated.

A few minutes later, I sat waiting for Kingsley on the front steps. It was already dark, and there was an ominous collection of storm clouds that had people rushing to get home. Kingsley, walking slowly and calmly through the brisk wind, attracted more attention than the people running for cabs. Well, the slow walk and his ostentatious purple cloak.

"Rian," he said, reaching me. I appreciated that he came alone: I had no intention of falling apart in front of snide Ministry workers.

"I didn't mean to," I said repeatedly. "I didn't mean to, I swear I didn't mean to."

It took Kingsley ten minutes to get me to stop babbling and go inside. Finally I followed behind him, twisting my hands nervously together. Kingsley stopped and examined my mother's body, nodding at something, before continuing into the kitchen while I stayed in the entryway, avoiding looking at her sprawled and indecorous form.

"Rian," called Kingsley suddenly.

I jumped. "N-no," I said nervously, knowing he was coaxing me into the kitchen.

"Rian, please. I need a confirmation."

A confirmation of the body. The body that was lifeless because of me. I was a murderer. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "Alright," I said, clutching the wall as I entered the kitchen. Once there, my eyes were drawn involuntarily toward the body and I looked at the man with horror. "Oh, God," I whispered, staggering backward. "It was an accident. I wasn't trying to kill him."

Kill him. I _killed_ him.

"Yet it looks like you did a good job of it," said Kingsley, peering at the masked man. My victim's face was covered in shadows from my angle, but I turned my head anyway, my breath quickening. "Is this him?"

"Were you expecting me to have killed someone else?" I asked, on the verge of tears.

Kingsley took a step toward me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Rian."

I glanced back at the man's face. His open eyes stared at me accusingly and I found that I couldn't look away. "Yeah, that's him."

"What happened?" asked Kingsley, leading me into the hallway.

"It was self-defense," I pleaded, ignoring him. I babbled on and on, defending myself over and over again, interrupting him each time he tried to speak. Finally Kingsley sent a call to Ministry workers, and pulled me to an empty upstairs room to wait for them. He set them in order down in the kitchen, and then came back up. "Rian, it's alright," he said, in his deep, comforting voice. "I know you didn't mean it to end like this. But you _must_ tell me exactly what happened, otherwise I can't help you. I've got to be able to prove that it was self-defense."

I did tell him, though it took probably half an hour to get through what was, in fact, a very brief account of events. At the end of the exhausting time, Kingsley walked me downstairs. The kitchen and front hallway were crowded with people, so we went out the side door, managing to evade the sight of the Daily Prophet reporters.

"Alright," said Kingsley, once we were alone. "I want you to go to the Burrow. Stay there for the night. I'll be by in the afternoon to talk to you some more, after I talk to your brother."

"Could I...what about Fred and George's...?" I asked, because I needed to be sure that they didn't see this the same way I did. I needed them to calm me down. They deserved to hear about this from me, and I knew that if I didn't tell them tonight, I'd never be able to.

Kingsley nodded. "That's fine. But go straight there, do you hear me? This is a very nerve-wracking event for you, and I know you're going to be scared. It will help to see them, I think. Tell them everything, they'll understand."

I shivered and looked back at the house. "How?" I asked. "I don't even understand."

He put a hand on my shoulder and I felt like a small child. There was a strange longing in my chest: I wished more than anything for a father right now, someone who would have been there for me at a time like this. But I had nothing like that because of the dead woman in my entryway. And now I didn't even have a mother, thanks to the man lying dead in the kitchen. But, if he had children, they no longer had a father, thanks to me. What a hideous and endless circle of death. Time seemed to end, then and there, because I couldn't return to a time before this occurred, and I couldn't count on time to erase what had happened.

Kingsley may have noticed something change in me, because he abruptly straightened and walked me to the edge of the street. "I'm not sure if you should Apparate. I'll get you on the Knight Bus. Then go to their flat, get some rest, _talk_ to them."

He waited with me, and walked me onto the bus, even paying for my fare. I dazedly remembered that I needed to pay him back, but all too soon the bus was moving, and even the coaster-like ride didn't faze me. The ride was as calm as a ferry to me, and I leaned my head against the window, staring out at the rain, trying very hard not to think about anything. I got off at the Leaky Cauldron and walked past Tom into the back, to Diagon Alley. The night was getting colder with every breath I took, and the ever present shadows had me jumping every few seconds. It was drizzling a little; each drop felt like a bullet, and shocked me just as much. I shivered and took a shaky breath, still trying not to cry as I headed down the street. I almost wished I could have cried, had the rain hide the tear stains before I knocked on their door, but I couldn't relinquish the control; I had control over few things at the moment and I was going to prolong it as long as possible.

A few minutes later I was staring at their door, trying to remember if I had knocked or not when I heard someone clomping down the steps, not taking much care or precaution. They'd most likely have been asleep, as I hadn't seen any lights on. I almost prepared myself to be hexed for waking them up, but I couldn't really be bothered. Kingsley was right: at the moment it was just essential to at least see them. Either of them. I needed to know that not everything in the world was completely upside down, that they were still alive, and that they forgave me-

Fred opened the door, a pissed off look on his face. He glared at me through the rain, squinting slightly until he illuminated the end of his wand. When he realized it was me, his cautiously held wand arm relaxed and lowered to his side, and the expression on his face softened slightly. I had woken him up; a hastily thrown on Quidditch jersey was inside out and his black boxers and bright red hair were rumpled with sleep, or perhaps irritation. His eyes were half opened as he looked at me, allowing only a glimpse of his deep brown irises, not that I could see them anyway, due to the dark. However, I could imagine their warm, rich colour easily and I felt a burst of particular affection for his eyes, his brilliantly red hair, his pale legs, his squinting eyes. Almost immediately there was a small, warm explosion in my chest, much like walking through a dark, chilly room, only to discover a roaring fire and candles in the next. I wanted nothing more than to throw myself at him, but I couldn't move.

"Bloody he-e-ell Rian," he said, yawning and then leaning against the doorframe. However, he didn't look too angry to see me. Fred wasn't a huge grudge holder, and I was more thankful for it than I'd ever been. I should have remembered that earlier. I wished this wasn't the first time I'd seen him since our fight. "What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?"

It was most likely around one in the morning, now that I thought about the time. Thought it wasn't that late, when Fred went to bed, he was never happy to be awoken.

"I know. I'm sorry," I said, looking down at a notch in the doorframe as I picked at it with my thumb. I opened my mouth, but couldn't find the words. How did I begin to describe what had happened? I looked up at the sky, trying desperately to hold back tears. It was wickedly hard and slow to try and get out every word before the dam broke. By now he'd most likely figured out that something was wrong and he was reaching toward me, actually looking concerned.

"What's the m-?" he began, but the words suddenly flew out of my mouth like a torrent, and I cut him off. He froze halfway toward me.

"I killed him."

Fred's eyes widened and my finger slipped, cutting a small slice in the skin.

"I mean...he killed my mum, and then I...I...I _killed_ him."

I didn't know what else to say, what else I could add at the moment, though the silence felt tense and pressured. I glanced up at Fred, to find he was staring at me in open-mouthed shock. We didn't move for several seconds, and each second felt like a year as I felt drowned in terror and rain. I needed him to move first, because I couldn't. Because I was a murderer, and he had to accept that before I could feel right about even being near him. Finally, Fred took a step forward and that was all he had to do to break my fragile restraint. I also advanced, burying my head against his chest as all my attempts at quieting my tears failed. He pressed his arms against my back, and his hand gently caressed the back of my neck as he shushed me gently. I wrapped my arms around Fred's waist, and his body was comforting to me, something tangible that I could use to ground myself in reality. He was real, and whole, and _alive. _I could feel his warm skin and heartbeat, proof that life was still pounding on inside of him. I knew that he was watching my back for me, that I was safe here, and that was immensely comforting.

However, I was still terrified. I hated that my body was violently shaking, but I couldn't stop it. I'd never seen anyone die before. I'd certainly never killed anyone before. I killed him. Me. His loss of life was my responsibility. Despite the fact that he would have most certainly killed me, I couldn't shake the thought that I could have done something much more harmless.

But Fred didn't seem to hate me for it, and that very nearly overruled the horror I felt toward myself.

"Fred, what is going—Rian? What happened?" asked George. Fred pushed my head closer to his chest, one arm still on my back. To me, it meant that he was taking care of everything for me, including explanation, as he whispered words even I couldn't hear. I did hear George walk around us, and he murmured to Fred, who moved away from the doorway toward the back, practically dragging me with him. He gently pushed me down onto the stairs that led to their flat, and sat with me. The front door closed softly, and a few seconds later an overhead light turned on, illuminating the back area of the shop. I leaned against Fred, and George sat beside us while Fred rocked me gently as I cried. I was slightly hysterical, and Fred brushed my hair continuously, soothingly. Both seemed to be as helpless as I felt, the way I could sense them staring at me. Eventually, once I calmed down, I rearranged the way I was seated, so that I was more in the middle of them, rather than being buried in Fred's chest. I picked the crust of blood off the small slice in my finger to avoid looking at them.

"Kingsley told me that I sh-should stay here, but is that al-alright? I mean, if it's a pr-problem then I can..."

"Why would you even have to ask?" interrupted George kindly. "Of course you can stay here."

"Yeah, we don't want you by yourself with a bunch of nutters after you, trying to avenge their mate."

I didn't have to look up to see George shoot Fred a look that said "not helping". Fred cleared his throat.

"What happened?" asked George, and I shook my head. "Stop that."

He took my hand and looked at me intently and I had no excuse to avoid looking at them. For a split second I was reminded of Mrs. Weasley, as George stared inquiringly at me. That was probably what did me in, so I began to tell them, though it took even longer than it did with Kingsley.

"And then h-he sent a killing curse my way at the same time I did. His missed..." I said, after a long and slow battle with crying.

"And yours didn't," finished Fred.

I felt the tears coming again as they were silent for what seemed like an eternity. They both looked at each other.

"Rian," said Fred slowly. "Everything's...it's going to be alright."

"You're safe, mate," said George consolingly. "Nobody's going to sneak up on you in here."

"You don't have to worry about a thing. We'll take care of you."

I let out a half-sob. They didn't care about what I'd done. They were only worried about me, and that concern was overwhelming. I'd never realized how much I needed them. Fred took my hand now and I looked up at him.

"You know, a nice, big mug of tea might help," said George, glancing at us. "I'll...I'll meet you upstairs." He left us in the store alone. As soon as we heard the door shut, Fred's grip on my hand tightened and he pulled me up. We looked at each other momentarily, both of us unsure.

"I'm sorry," we said quickly in unison, and then awkwardly looked at each other. Fred still held my hand, which seemed to feed me with an energy I desperately needed. I could function, I could live. So I spoke quickly.

"Fred, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I'm so sorry. I just didn't want you to think I'd be like her, because I was scared that I was going to be like her...I guess you were right though: I am, a little bit, especially now."

"Of course you aren't," he said fiercely, exasperatedly. "I...that was my fault. I'm really sorry about that. I shouldn't have said that, it was completely out of line. Tonight doesn't make you anything like her. I know why you kept it from us, even if I don't like it. It was just a shock, is all."

"I should have told you, though. Years ago."

He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear and cupped my face. "Well, you didn't, and there's nothing we can do about that now. Anyway, are you alright?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I'm scared."

Fred nodded. "That's to be expected. C'mon, let's go upstairs. George is right, some tea will probably help. Calming, you know."

I'd barely sat down on the couch when George appeared with a tea that, I found, was laden with brandy.

"I'm trying _not_ to become a depressed drunk," I said, trying to seem mild. I felt frozen and I desperately wanted to drown the tea, as well as down the bottle of brandy. Instead I set the tea on the table beside me.

"Because one tea with brandy is going to make you a raving alcoholic," said Fred sarcastically, but not unkindly. I still didn't touch the mug.

"Sorry about that, I didn't think...I'll get you some regular tea," said George, grimacing. "Do you...is there anything you want?"

"I'm fine, thanks, George," I said. He nodded and walked into the kitchen. I turned to look at Fred, and the look on his face surprised me. It was a mixture of sadness and desperation.

I wish they'd stop acting so sombre; I needed their optimistic and joking nature more than ever. I'd never been around when neither seemed to know what to say, and I hated it. I hated that I was the cause of it.

"Fred-"

"You're freezing," said Fred, nodding at my soaking robes. "Let me get you a blanket or something." He walked out to the kitchen too, and I could hear George and him talking. Whispering. I buried my head in my hands. I knew that they had to have time to absorb the information as well, but I wished they didn't need that time. Nonetheless, I gave them a few minutes before I stood up and walked into the kitchen, really wishing Fred had been getting a blanket, because I was freezing.

"Blankets don't usually have voices, do they, Fred?" I asked. He laughed, and then quickly sobered, as though he had done something wrong. It was nice hearing Fred's laugh though, if only at my bad joke. George handed me a tea. I wrapped my hands around the warm mug and took a gulp, ignoring the burning temperature. He must have put some sort of potion in it, because I instantly felt my frayed nerves calm. I glanced at him and he looked away.

"We were just talking about where you'd sleep," he said. Though they were accomplished liars, I knew that they weren't telling me the truth. I really didn't like that they were talking about me behind my back, but I suppose it was to be expected.

"We decided that you'll take my bed, and I'll sleep on the couch," said Fred as I downed the rest of the tea. I wondered if the potion was more dangerous than the brandy.

"I can sleep on the couch," I protested, preferring the warm fire to the cool darkness of Fred's room.

"And deprive me of the chance to be a gentleman?" he asked.

"But-" I began.

"You'll sleep better on a bed," said Fred. "Now stop arguing."

"Speaking of sleep, you've got to be knackered, haven't you?" asked George, looking at me worriedly. I was, but not the kind of exhausted that sleep would cure. I began to shrug, but as I looked at them, they both seemed as though they could easily fall over at any second, so I nodded halfway through the shrug.

"Yeah, I am. Exhausted."

"I'll let Fred tuck you in," said George, grinning slightly. He hugged me tightly and kissed my cheek. "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," I said, attempting a smile. It must have been unconvincing because he gave me a reproving look. "Sleep will help, I'm sure."

"It will," he said emphatically. "It won't seem so bad in the morning. It never does."

Or it'll be worse. "I know. Just getting through the first night..."

"You know if you need either or us, we're here."

Fred nodded. "Feel free to wake either of us up."

"I will, of course," I said, clasping George's hand. He hugged me again.

"G'night."

"Night," I said. I watched him walk back to his room. I looked at Fred when George's door closed. He too hugged me tightly.

"If you need _anything_, wake me up," said Fred softly, in my ear. There was nothing flirtatious, sarcastic, or joking in his tone; it was completely sincere. "I'll be out here and I won't mind. Its hell going to bed after what you went through, but you do need sleep."

I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep at all, but if they were able to, I wasn't going to hold them up. However, I suddenly lost track of all thought as Fred kissed my cheek, and his face lingered by mine; I closed my eyes as his lips touched my mouth and I realized in that instant that I was in love with him. I loved him in every passionate, romantic sense I could think. He'd been an object of my love for years, but just as my best mate. There was something like a flip in my heart, and it made my stomach hurt in a wonderful way. I could nearly feel my blood rushing through my veins as he touched me, and I knew that I didn't want to just continue whatever it was we had; I wanted to be his and only his. And I wanted him to be mine. I needed to tell him immediately; later was too far away. A million things could happen between now and later. A million dreadful, horrific, nightmarish things. And it was so inane, so unfair to keep such a significant thing from him at a time like this.

But I still couldn't. Because what if he was still secretly angry? And what if he did think of me as a murderer? What if he was scared of me? Aside from all that, I didn't want to tell him until I was sure he wanted to say it back. Although, I was never going to be sure of that.

"Wait," I said, quickly making a decision and grabbing his hand as he pulled away, beginning to lead me to his room. "I...I'm going to stay out here, by the fire."

Fred looked as though he was about to protest as I released my grip but then nodded and turned away again. "Alright, I'll keep my door open. Let's make you up a bed—"

I grabbed his hand again as he began to walk. His fingers curled automatically around my palm. "I want you to stay with me," I interrupted. I glanced down at our intertwining fingers and released them. "Please?"

He could say no. He could, and knowing Fred, if he felt that way, would, tell me that he didn't trust me. That he hated me, and couldn't stand the sight of me. He could be repulsed by my request, and I feared he would turn from me in disgust. But he did none of these things. Surprise was evident on his face, but he nodded again, though not nearly as easily this time, and took my hand. "Alright," he repeated slowly, and my tense body relaxed minutely. "I'll get you something to change into and we'll get some stuff for a bed."

I followed him into his room, where he handed me a soft black shirt and a pair of pants I recognized from Quidditch practice. Once he walked out of the room, laden with pillows and blankets that left the bed naked, I peeled off my robes and changed. As I did so, I stared out the window at the multicoloured cobblestones and stores. I was alive because of timing, perfect timing. That was all that stood between myself and death. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the window, though I felt as though the dead man's face was going to appear in it. I tugged on the clothes as quickly as I could, most likely inside out and backwards, but I couldn't wait to be out of the room, couldn't wait to not be alone. I swung open the door and ran down the dark hallway, trying not to imagine someone waiting to jump out from behind each corner. The two second walk seemed to take two hours and I doubted the potion George had used had been any sort of quality, for, again, I was extremely terrified of everything.

Fred was standing behind the couch, supervising the making of a bed and I ran toward him, ready for the feeling of safety again. Pillows and blankets arranged themselves in a comfortable fashion, and the space before the fire looked irresistibly inviting. I managed to slow to a walk, and I stood behind Fred. As he turned I wrapped my arms around his neck again and I laid my head on his heart, the same place I'd laid against him earlier, although now, Fred gave a bit of a start, as if shocked. Then his large hands wrapped around my back. The feeling was familiar and possibly the most wonderful in the world.

"I'm scared to sleep," I whispered, trying to avoid waking George up, while also trying not to look at Fred's chest, even though my head was on it. His shirt had gone someplace, exposing his toned but not overly muscular body, though I couldn't blame him. I knew Fred never slept with a shirt on, and it was really hot by the fire. My own body was prickling with sweat, but that may have been because my chest was tight. I tried to avoid taking a deep breath; I didn't want him to move. I gently lay my fingers along his back and he relaxed, pulling me tighter to him.

"I dunno what to do about that," he whispered back, and I wasn't sure if I imagined the seductiveness, but nonetheless, he was still sincere. I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against his shoulder.

"Will you stay up with me?" I asked. It was a lot to ask: sleep was important, especially to Fred. I looked up at him and he straightened in surprise but nodded without pause and stepped aside, allowing me into the area before the fire. I sat down on the floor in front of the couch, after sliding off the pants; my bare legs helped relieve the constricted feeling in my body. Fred's too long shirt covered the top of my thighs, but just barely, and Fred glanced at me and away as he sat down, obviously trying to be sensitive.

"It's ok, you know," he said quietly, staring at the fire. He had a soft intensity in his voice but didn't seem to be able to look at me. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Now he put an arm around me and my breath caught in my throat. The words weren't going to be recorded in a book of great speeches, but the tone is what made all the difference. It was the understanding, the patience, the kind of feeling Fred reserved for only the most important people in his life. I'd heard him use it when he talked, really, deeply talked, to his mum about Percy; or when George was particularly worried about something. He'd used the same tone when we'd stayed at the Burrow and Ginny had woken up with nightmares from the Ministry and he'd been the only one to hear her. This was a tone I never thought I'd hear used toward me.

It also lifted my depression about fifty percent. Fred knew it wasn't my fault; it really wasn't as bad as I'd thought. It was an accident, and I wasn't to blame. And I was safe. He was going to keep me safe. I laid my head on his chest again, hoping I wasn't overstepping my boundaries. Though it was, in all honesty, a little difficult to care at the moment because I had a difficult time caring about anything when Fred was touching me in any way, let alone in this way. I watched him, and took in the shape of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, how his eyes crinkled a bit when he took a deep breath, like he was concentrating really hard on something. Staring at him, I realized I was exhausted.

"I am tired," I admitted softly, and lay down in front of him before he could say a word. There was barely a moment of hesitation before he too lay down. I fell asleep, after intertwining his hand with mine, clutching it tightly. I wouldn't tell him immediately, because there was a bit of 'later' left. I didn't want to ruin this feeling quite yet, not if it wasn't going to amount to anything.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Only a few reviews! Please guys, I don't know how you're feeling about the story if there aren't any reviews. Plus they make me all warm and fuzzy :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

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RPOV

I awoke from a nightmare a bit later, and found myself staring at the wall, watching shadows from the dying flames. Distorted images of the man I had killed had swirled through my dreams, accompanied by a blinding and continuously flashing green light. I made to move closer to Fred, but his arm was twisted underneath me, his fist digging into my spine. I shifted a bit, trying to gently move his hand, but he woke up with a gasp. I jumped, startled, not expecting his peaceful face to awaken so quickly; the snapping change of expression was almost frightening, and my nerves were set on edge again. I took a deep breath as he sat up on his hands.

"Waz wrong?" asked Fred, obviously annoyed to be woken up. He rubbed his eyes, and though entirely ludicrous, the small tinges of exasperation in his tone made my strength crumble.

"N-nothing. Don't worry about it," I said, my voice cracking as I pressed the side of my face against his shoulder, looking up at him.

Fred glanced at me and wrapped his arms around me again, looking much more awake. His mouth twitched. "That was extremely believable."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to wake you up."

He yawned. "I didn't mean to fall asleep, it's just, I thought you had."

"I had," I assured him. "I had...I woke up."

"Nightmares?" he asked, sitting up more.

"Mhm." I curled my legs into my chest as I leaned against him. Fred didn't seem to notice. He was absentmindedly stroking my hair, and was staring at the fire, his mind obviously not focused on the conversation. Whatever he was thinking about, it looked like it scared him as much as my thoughts scared me.

"Fred, are you alright?" I asked softly, not wanting to startle him.

"Fine," he muttered, though he had a slightly nauseous look on his face. "I'm fine."

"That was extremely believable."

"I'm fine," he repeated. "Just thinking."

"Looks painful," I said, and he gave me half a grin.

"It's really not as bad as you'd think," he said, attempting nonchalance, though he gave me a worried glance.

"Are you sure it isn't?" I murmured. He sighed and rested his head on top of mine.

"Not nearly as bad as the boils I had when we were working on the Skiving Snackboxes. Remember Oliver was on his practice kick...painful, that was."

I closed my eyes.

"What?" he asked, sincerely curious. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lied, sitting up carefully.

"That is the worst 'nothing' I've heard in a while," he said softly, putting his hand under my chin. "You can tell me anything."

I looked up at him. "I'm scared."

FPOV

There was a swoop in my stomach, and an overwhelming sense of terror when Rian admitted that she was scared. I felt like throwing up because I knew I wasn't going to be able to protect the people that mattered most to me, mainly because they were too damn proud to let me look after them, and there really was no feasible thing I could do. That might have been what scared me the most, being so out of control. George and I had already discussed it between ourselves, about how it was an alarming possibility that we could lose each other in this war. I didn't think I'd feel anywhere near the same about Rian, but I realized that I did. I loved them both more than anyone in the world, and that was what I was capable of losing. Having another person, along with my family, that I couldn't stand losing...that was a harsh blow in and of itself.

"Don't worry," I said, pulling her close. "There isn't anything to be frightened of."

"Isn't there?" she asked bitterly, though she held tightly to me.

My fear turned to sadness, for her mostly. I remembered when it had hit George and me, the thought that we could die any day now. There really wasn't anything funny about it, nothing funny at all. Rian could have died just hours ago, instead of sitting here in my living room. With me. Sleeping beside me. And I realized how stupid our relationship was, this dancing away, and dancing toward each other. How we never really talked, just snogged quite a bit. It was ridiculous. It'd been strange with Rian, because we were best mates first and because she seemed to hate the thought of anything romantic with me. And then when she did, I got scared because I knew a relationship with Rian would be serious; she wasn't one to mess around, and I respected that. But now I wanted her, committed relationship and all.

"Not right now," I pointed out. "Listen, I know what happened tonight is most likely scaring the hell out of you. But right now you're here with me. And you're safe. And alive. And I love you." Well, there goes not blurting it out.

Rian didn't move. She had a slightly stricken look about her as she stared at me. "Really?" she asked in a whisper.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, really."

"You love me?" she asked.

"Well, I'm not sure. The girl I love never looks at me like I'm insane. Wait. Forget that, yes you do, all the time." I shook my head. "Of course I love you. I would have reckoned it was pretty bloody obvious. Now the question is, do you feel the same?"

She bit her lip as she smiled. "Yes. Yes, I love you," she said, and I was surprised at how much those words affected me. I'd always imagined them to just be...words. Now, it was like my blood was boiling, euphoria was bursting through my skin, warring with my constant state of nervousness. It was a toxic and invigorating mixture.

"Not just the kissing?" I asked, grinning. This time though, it wasn't a mischievous, sarcastic, or amused grin. It was a full-on involuntary grin of happiness.

"Not just the kissing," she said. "Though that is quite nice. No, I'm so glad you said it first. I was going to, tonight actually."

"I'm always ahead of the game," I said, shrugging.

"You should compete with Trelawney for the Divination post."

"When...when did you know?" I asked, lowering my voice.

She laughed quietly. "Tonight, mostly. But really, I've loved you since the day you showed me your first invention. You were so proud and I was so proud...and every day you've been there for me. I've never met anyone that literally takes advantage of every second the way you do. It's the confused and uncertain people that give into depression and terror. You're so self-assured. You have no self-doubt at all, not that that doesn't get you into trouble, but it's a quality about you that I love, and envy, so much. Being around you makes me feel as though I could be the same way. You're a brilliant wizard, Fred, though I'm sure you know it, and a really, really wonderful person, and every time I see you it's better than the last. You make me happy."

"You've put quite a lot of thought into this, haven't you?" I asked, to cover up my surprise. On the outside, I was calmly taking in everything she said, like I'd expected it all. As though I found it perfectly normal that she thought Fred Weasley was quite extraordinary. On the inside, I was thrilled; jumping, running, flying, yelling in satisfaction, and acting really quite ridiculous because, with the sarcastic, carefree attitude I had about most things, I'd never had someone actually tell me that I had good qualities. I'd only garnered approval on rare occasions and here Rian was approving everything about me, as well as my accomplishments. I was accustomed to people yelling at me, and telling me off, and saying how I was being irresponsible and ruining my life. I didn't quite know how to take it, her listing everything that was good about me, or saying that she even loved the bad things about me. And in all honesty, I'd never cared about anyone's opinion enough to consider this an important issue, never really worried what people thought of me. But I did care what Rian thought.

"Lots of boring nights," she said dryly, and I raised my eyebrows. She grinned and looked down, and a serious expression crossed her face. "And I know it's you that I love because… I mean, I love you more than anyone, Fred. You. And if I can't figure out who I love, then I don't deserve to have you love me. We've been friends forever, and...at some point, I accidentally fell in love with you."

Accidentally fell in love; she'd managed to hit the nail on the head. I realized, that in the few years I'd known her, she'd come to know me as well as I knew myself, maybe even better. Rian was my best mate first; she knew everything about me, especially the things I refused to tell any other girl I'd date, and that made it so much easier to love her.

I glanced down at her and laughed because she had a horrified look on her face.

"That was a terrible line," she said, grimacing.

"How's this for a line?" I asked. "You're not perfect, and neither am I, but that's why we're perfect for each other."

"That was sweet, though," she said, smiling. "If a little unoriginal."

"Unoriginal?" I demanded. "Well, maybe it is a little cliché. Anyway, I'm chock full of lines in these sappy moments, so appreciate away."

"Fred," she said. She closed her eyes and I dragged my nose up her forehead, planting a kiss on her hairline, not caring if she thought I was overstepping my boundaries or not. I mean, blimey, I'd waited too long. And who knew how long we'd have left? "Why_,_ exactly, do you love _me_?"

I stopped instantly and laughed at her under my breath, because I should have known she'd want to talk, and make this overly complicated. All I wanted to do was...well, not talk.

"Why are you laughing?" she demanded.

"I dunno," I lied, trying to stop. After all, I'd appreciated hearing her answer the same question. I thought of how I should phrase this. It was surprisingly difficult to describe. I didn't have as good of a handle on her as she had on me. I loved her because…because. "I love you because you're you."

She sighed. "Fred, please. C'mon, there must be some reason. Besides my sexual appeal."

I laughed. "Reason number one," I said in reply to her last comment. She gave me a look. "Alright, alright. You're beautiful, a bloody good witch, and Quidditch player, and I'm fairly certain that you slipped a love potion in my drink during the Yule Ball."

"Fred-"

I pressed a finger against her lips. "I was only joking, love."

Dark pink spread across her face, and she stared at me.

"D'you like that nickname, _love_?" I asked, smirking.

She rolled her eyes and smirked back. "I don't care what you call me," she said.

"So if I wanted to call you a Blast-Ended Skrewt you'd let me?" I asked, thinking of the most eccentric creature I could. She raised her chin.

"Yes," she said. Then she grinned wickedly. "That sounds kinky though."

I let out a great bark of laughter before I could stop myself. Rian was now looking down at my hand, tracing lines absentmindedly on my palm.

"Can I have a serious answer now?" she asked quietly. Surprised, I frowned, trying to figure out why this was so important to her. I thought she would have dropped it by now, but maybe she didn't because she wasn't as physically attracted to me as I was to her. The thought was a bit alarming.

"If I told you every reason why I love you, we'd be here until it snowed."

Rian glanced out the window at the rain. "Tell me just a few then."

"Ri...I can't just list these things, like I'm jotting down an outline for a school essay. Why do you want to know so bad?"

"I want to know because..." She sighed and trailed off. I raised another eyebrow at her, not really liking where this was going; she looked like she was going to say something, something that was going to upset me. I braced myself, especially when her tone became curiously business-like and rushed. "Fred…what if...what if the only reason this happened is because we're so scared of what could happen tomorrow, or this afternoon…I mean, I don't feel this way, but…you aren't just desperate to love _someone_ because of the war that is, let's face it, inevitable, and I'm just conveniently here, and willing? You know as well as I that something could happen, and we'd be gone tomorrow." Here she slowed down. "To me, you're different. You're not just a boyfriend. And I just want to know if I'm different to you as well."

I looked at her in disbelief. I didn't know what I'd expected, but it definitely wasn't this.

"What?" I asked flatly.

She sighed, exasperated, apparently misinterpreting my 'what' as confusion from her words. "Do you just want to shag me and move on?"

Putting it in such simple terms made me somehow angrier. "Bloody hell!" I snapped, although with a bit of guilt, because about a year ago, I had entertained the idea. "Do you honestly think I'd use you like that?"

"I was just checking!" she retorted angrily.

"You had to ask with _me_?" I asked, getting more and more frustrated.

"Yes! No…I just…I don't know. I mean, c'mon Fred, you do have a bit of a history and I know better than most, having set up most of your-"

"That?" I demanded furiously. She honestly thought she was no different? I mean, really. Alright, so maybe she had a point, but I was so confident with what I felt for her that I was angry that she didn't realize it. "How many girls do you think I've told I love them?"

"Out of all the girls you've been with, I dunno. Ten?" she estimated dryly.

"Ten?" I asked, my voice rising. "One! That's including you!"

"Only me?" she asked, her jaw dropping in sincere surprise.

"Oy, look who can count!" I said, my tone frigid, frustrated and unable to figure out why she was so confused. She narrowed her eyes and lifted her hand up to most likely slap me, but I caught her wrist and rolled on top of her, pressing my mouth against hers. When I pulled away, she stared up at me. I smiled smugly, the desired reaction acquired.

"How many people do I love?" I asked her.

"The number is swiftly decreasing," she said breathlessly, eyes wide. I couldn't help but laugh again as she sighed in defeat.

"Rian, just trust me. I love you now, and I always will. I can't guarantee that we'll be 'together forever,' and all that, but I can promise that I will love you past the day I die." Rian shuddered. "Sorry, I meant forever. But I swear. I love everything about you. I love the way you brush your hair behind your ears; the way you commit to everything you begin, no matter how much you hate it; the way you trust me with everything, even though I generally have no idea what I'm doing and usually go with the first idea that comes to mind. I just love _you_."

She smiled. "That wasn't so bad. That's all I wanted to hear," she said. "Well, it was a bit more than I expected, but thanks."

"You're welcome?"

"This is just going a lot quicker than I expected. Not that that's a bad thing...it's a great thing. I just didn't expect the everlasting love declaration tonight. Or ever, really."

"You didn't? Not ever?"

"Well, I hoped of course. But I didn't expect it." She laughed a little as I kissed her again.

I swore I heard George chuckle once or twice from his room, but I wasn't bothered by it. I was in bed (figuratively), with a beautiful girl that I loved, who had just confessed that she loved me, and I had led myself into a temporary fantasy that we'd live to Dumbledore's age, and have seven little Weasleys of our own running around. And then she said the thing that broke my fantasy.

"When do you think this is going to explode?" she asked a few moments later. I looked at her questioningly. "When is You-Know-Who going to come out?"

"Of the closet?" I asked, cocking my head because I didn't want to leave my fantasy world just yet. She laughed and rolled her eyes as I bent down and pulled her bottom lip between mine. Her breathing hitched and I released her mouth, but didn't move. I wasn't sure what it was, but her breathing hitched again, and my heart started to match her breathing pattern. I was going to have to tell her to start breathing normally if she kept that up. I just wanted to feel _her_…her soft skin, smooth muscles…making sure that she was close to me, and safe. This was going to take some time to acclimate. I was accustomed to lust, but not quite used to this protectiveness. Not toward someone that I kissed.

"I don't know," I said, knowing that she'd badger me if I didn't answer her. "But when he does, I'll be trying my damndest to stop him."

"And I'll be with you," she said fiercely. I sighed; again, where did this feeling of protectiveness come from? Last year, a few months ago even, I would have answered her with an exuberant 'yes'.

"Well, as to that, I think I just might like it."

"You'd better love it," she said in a mock-threatening tone.

"Or what?" I demanded.

"Well, I know your weakness after all."

"Which is…?"

But she just smirked and bent down to kiss me. Ah, that weakness.

A little while later we just lay together, her tucked into one shoulder, my other arm wrapped around her. Now that we'd stopped talking, every so often she would cringe and I knew she was thinking about what had happened earlier.

"Rian," I said, after watching this a few times. "It really wasn't your fault. Maybe you could have disarmed him, but what would you have done with him after that? If he got sent to Azkaban, he'd just get broken out, and do this thing all over again. Probably come after you again because he'd been in Azkaban. It was, like as not, the best option, I think."

"But I'm a murderer," she said quietly. "I killed him. I'm just as bad as he was."

"Hey, now, stop that. Of course you aren't. This right here proves it."

"I just never wanted to kill anyone," she whispered. "Fred, it was so easy. Too easy."

"At least I can count on you in a crisis," I said. She didn't find it so funny, and I sighed. "I don't think any of us are going to get out of killing someone, these next couple of years. There is something brewing, and it's going to end unhappily, no matter who wins. You're just a little ahead of the game."

There was a pause. "Let's not end unhappily then," she said.

"We can't really influence that, love."

She nodded. "No, I know, I just mean...let's make the most of what time we have before the end. And no more secrets."

"No more secrets," I agreed. She didn't respond. "Rian?"

I glanced down, but she was asleep. Not comfortable, and not restful, but sleep nonetheless. The clock drew my gaze: three hours, and it'd felt like a fifteen minute conversation. I kissed her temple, and fell asleep myself.


	6. Chapter 6

Hey all! Sorry it's been a while, been extremely busy. Anyway, I really do want some feedback on how this is going. Really. Because the more I've been looking at this thing, the more I want to drag it to the recycling bin on my desktop. So anything you have to say, please do. I've been looking at this for too long, and can't really read it objectively. Give a girl a hand? Hopefully you all enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Obviously.

* * *

FPOV

The next day Kingsley arrived, and pulled Rian into the living area. I watched unhappily from the entryway.

"Let it go, mate," George advised, joining me. "You've done all you can. She has to face it sooner or later."

"Rather it be later," I muttered, walking away from him. About an hour after, Kingsley left, warning us to anticipate Adam, Rian's brother, soon. George walked Kingsley out while I sat next to Rian on the couch.

"He's going to take care of the funeral," she said, her voice muffled by her hands.

"Do you...should we...we'll go with you," I said firmly.

"Thanks," she said, looking up. "I don't...I don't really want to go. Can I not go?"

"I think you should," I said quietly. George reappeared with Rian's brother. "Er..."

I got up, to leave them in peace, but Rian grabbed my hand and pulled me back down next to her.

"Are you alright?" asked Adam intently, sitting as well.

Rian shrugged. "Physically or mentally?" she muttered.

Adam laughed, sounding relieved. "Both I guess."

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Listen, I know you don't want to go to the funeral, but it'd look better if we looked as though we were still on good terms."

"Kept up the charade this long, haven't we?" muttered Rian. With a sudden burst of energy, she stormed out of the living room and into the bathroom, where she remained for the better part of the day. Eventually we coaxed her out, and she looked rather ashamed of herself as we surrounded her.

"I'm sorry," she said, pulling away from the group as we attempted to comfort her. "I'm fine. Let me make dinner."

None of us dared argue with her, with the look she gave us, so we all gathered in the kitchen as she worked.

"What's with the quiet?" she asked, falsely cheerful. "Did somebody—never mind."

After that, we tried to keep up a steady stream of conversation.

Rian fell asleep on my shoulder in front of the fire, so I told Adam to take the bed.

"No, let's let her," he said, looking at Rian. When I hesitated, he looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," I said hurriedly, fumbling almost like Ron for a moment. George coughed, and I knew he noticed as well. "Let's let her."

So I picked her up and moved her to my bed, but when I went to leave the bedroom, she stirred. I cursed silently as she sat up, gauging the situation.

"You aren't going to leave me alone, are you?"

"Well, your brother is here..." I began.

"Then let me talk to him, but I'm not sleeping alone," she said forcibly.

"Ri..."

"Rian?" asked Adam from the doorway. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," she said, looking at me. "Listen, Fred needs his bed. And...I don't want to sleep alone. I—"

"Fred?" interrupted Adam, apparently seeing where this was going. "Let's you and I have a talk."

"Er, I'd rather not."

He gave me a look that had me standing up so fast I got dizzy. Despite Rian's relatively small stature, Adam was built a lot like Charlie, except even taller. He was not somebody I wanted against me.

"Adam," said Rian angrily. "What are you-"

"Fred?" repeated Adam. Giving Rian's hand a squeeze, I followed him into the hall.

"Just to be sure," said Adam, closing his eyes as I closed the door. "She does mean what I think she means. About you two?"

"I won't touch her," I said quickly.

"What happened last night?" he asked. "I know she stayed here..."

"Nothing like that," I said, again quickly. "We...er..."

"They declared their undying love for each other," said George, walking toward us, obviously appreciating the awkwardness. Adam stared between the two of us, as if trying to detect a joke. When it appeared that we were serious, he sighed.

"Alright, I know my sister can take care of herself," he said, and I sensed he was trying to be reasonable. "You won't touch her?"

I shook my head vehemently as George snickered. Adam rubbed the back of his neck, and I had to feel sympathetic. I'm not sure I would have been so forgiving if I'd been dealing with one of Ginny's boyfriends.

"Alright. I'll...see you in the morning, then," said Adam wearily, turning toward the living room. I glanced at George, who shrugged.

"I'm as surprised as you," he admitted. "I thought you were in for a major arse kicking."

"I sense disappointment," I said, closing the door behind me.

"Maybe a little," said Rian, as I joined her.

"You heard all that?"

"Bit difficult not to. C'mon, let's go to sleep. And for the record, I give you permission to touch me."

I bit back a grin as I wrapped my arm around her middle.

"You're a bit sinful," I commented.

"How so?"

"Why do I get the sense that you used your grief to get me to stay with you?"

She paused. "It isn't grief so much," she said slowly, as if looking for a loophole.

"Fine. False grief," I clarified. "You know under no normal circumstances would Adam let me anywhere near you in a bed."

"Well, at least something good came out of two deaths," she said, too lightly. Surprised, I didn't say anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

FPOV

There wasn't nearly as much to grin about at the funeral. Both Rian and Adam stared at their mother's coffin with the same emotion used to cut up Potions ingredients. Rian's gaze was steely and her back was rigid. I guessed she'd gotten all her emotion out last night. I took her hand at one point, but I doubted she even noticed. There were only six people there, including the four of us and the minister. Afterwards, a man approached Rian and Adam, and Rian gave us a look, so George and I walked a few hundred feet away, giving them privacy. I leaned against a tree, watching intently, because though the man's face was covered by a scarf, I had a sneaking suspicion of who it was.

RPOV

"Is there anything we can help you with?" asked Adam. How he even had the ability to speak to him, I had no idea.

Lucius smirked. "Just a warning. I wouldn't get too comfortable, if I were you."

"How'd you get out of Azkaban?" I demanded.

"Security is...shall I say, lax nowadays. Like I said, I just came to warn you. My dearly departed sister made one mistake that cost her life. You two don't stand a chance." His gaze lingered on me and I felt a chill sweep up my back.

"I'd be more worried for yourself," I said, and Adam gave me an exasperated look. "Being in Voldemort's inner circle won't save you forever. How many of his followers has he tired of? And you're not number one anymore."

Lucius' face went white in fury. He raised his wand but I had mine ready first.

"Expelliarmus!" I said quickly.

Adam caught his wand. Lucius looked as though he could have strangled me with his bare hands, but managed to resist.

"We'll let you have a little fun in the trees, Uncle," said Adam. He threw the wand as far as he could into the nearby woods.

"Don't expect an extended life span," Lucius snarled at us, and then glanced at Fred and George. "Nor one for your...friends."

My chest threatened to explode. I hadn't even thought about needing to keep them safe.

"Go fetch your wand," said Adam, though I could tell he was watching me. "You wouldn't want to be even more defenceless, would you?"

I didn't even notice him go.

"What did we do?" I demanded of Adam. "Damn it, we should have ignored him!"

"Rian-" said Adam.

"This is...awful! Bloody hell, if he even thinks about touching them-"

"Rian-" Adam spoke more loudly this time.

"Why didn't we think about that? Association," I said bitterly. "I never should have let them come!"

"Rian." This time it was Fred that spoke. He put a hand on my shoulder. There was a swoop of nervousness as I looked at his face. Not Fred. I glanced at his brother. Not George. Not Adam. Not anyone!

The world felt suddenly incredibly vulnerable. Too many ways to die, too many ways to get at someone to kill them, too many motives to lead to the deaths of people I loved. I stepped closer to Fred and the little circle of our group tightened.

"What happened?" asked George.

"Nothing," I muttered. "Nothing. Let's go."

Of course they both ignored me and glanced at my brother.

"Our uncle wanted to 'warn' us..." Adam glanced at me and then them, "and you."

"Us?" asked Fred, looking baffled.

"Guilty by association, eh?" said George, grinning. "Never thought you would've been the bad influence between the three of us, Head Girl."

This was too much for Fred. "She _was_ 'relieved' of her title. Maybe we were the innocent ones all this time," he said, hardly controlling his laughter. "Shifty devil, you are."

"It isn't funny!" I said. "This is serious."

"Rian, you worry too much," said Fred, hooking his arm around my waist. I sidestepped him, elbowing him in the ribs as well for his trouble.

"Well excuse me, I don't mean to worry with a death threat hanging over our heads," I said sarcastically as Fred winced and stepped beside his brother.

"It's alright," said George.

"Yeah, we forgive you," added Fred, now a safe distance away.

"I swear," I began angrily.

"Rian?" interrupted Adam.

"What?" I demanded, turning toward him.

"We might want to get out of here and discuss this somewhere else." He glanced toward the tree line where Lucius stood silently, watching us with a smirk.

I couldn't help the thought that crept into my mind, the idea of how easy it would be to eliminate him, eliminate the threat against us. But it wouldn't have made a difference; there were twenty Death Eaters waiting to take his place. I was immediately sickened with myself, and shakily I turned away from him.

"Your house," I said tersely to Adam, grabbing hold of Fred and George. A moment later we were in Adam's small living room.

"How can you be so _cavalier_? This isn't a joke anymore, he's specifically targeting you!" I shouted at them.

"I'm so glad she's taking this calmly," said Fred.

"She's always so cool-headed," agreed George.

"You two think this is funny? I don't believe it! How the hell do you expect to stay alive during this if you refuse to take anything seriously? We're in the Order now; this isn't just helping out every now and then! Adam and I should have kept our mouths shut, and you should be _angry_ with us!"

"Sorry about that, mate," said George. "It's just, you always get so pissed when we try and tell you off. We never know when we should be angry, and when it's your turn."

"Fine. Fine! Don't give a damn. I thought your life mattered more to you. Excuse me for wanting to keep you two alive, after _burying_ my mother this afternoon." I walked out of the door. It was a low blow, throwing that last statement. It was also risky, seeing as how I wasn't all that teary during the funeral, but it was true. Granted, I hadn't had the ideal mother, but she had been a constant, and now she was gone, just like that. I had every right to be worried. So did Adam, for that matter, but he had been strangely quiet during this whole argument, and had just watched me leave. It was Fred who ran after me.

"Where are you going?" he shouted over the sound of the wind, catching up to me.

"I don't know!" I yelled back, not for the volume, but out of anger. "What, you care now?"

"Rian, calm down! Bloody hell, it's not like we're going to try and off ourselves. Are you...are you crying?" he asked, sounding alarmed.

"Of course not!" I said sarcastically, wiping the tears away.

"Rian, come back, it's starting to rain."

"So you're worried about me catching a cold, but not about keeping you two from being targets?" I demanded.

He gripped my arms tightly. "Rian! Blimey. We were already targets! We're children of the biggest blood traitors in the world. Our lot's thrown in with yours and your brother's. We already knew that. Just because Lucius made a comment about us doesn't mean we're in any more danger than we were before. That's why we don't care. Yeah, maybe you shouldn't have gone off on him, but you should know we wouldn't tell you off for that. It _doesn't_ matter. Your brother knows that as well."

I sighed and let him hug me. "I'm sorry. I just don't want to lose you, alright?"

"Well, I don't think panicking is going to help me stay alive at all."

He did have a point. "I'm sorry," I said more sincerely.

"Yeah well, remember that I'm the bloody voice of reason next time you decide to storm out," he said as I wrapped my arms around him. "Can we go back in now? It's cold."

FPOV

We went to the Burrow after that, and though Adam left soon, Rian, George, and I stayed nearly until midnight. Mum monopolized most of Rian's time, but Rian didn't seem to mind. When I'd tried mentioning it, Rian had hurriedly shushed me, and run after Mum. I couldn't help thinking about how both of my parents had known about Rian's family, but kept it to themselves. So, while Rian was off with Mum in the kitchen, I brought up the topic.

Dad sighed.

"Honestly, no one did trust Rian. For those that knew Rian's mother when she was younger, Rian was just like Lavania. Quiet, secluded, temperamental. And that scared a lot of people. But unlike her mother, Rian was raised without a father, a brother that knew what had horrible things had happened to their father, and little attention or influence from her mother. And _your_ mother, bless her, saw that. She was probably the only person that looked at Rian and didn't see Lavania's creation, but a scared little girl that had made friends with you two." Dad paused. "Like her brother, Lavania never made it a secret about how she disliked our family, and your mother knew she'd never 'sink to the level' of sending her daughter to spend time with us, and we were sure she wasn't sent as a spy because that'd still be," Dad coughed, "'unappealing' to her. Rian faced a lot of trouble, I'm sure, for spending all her time here, for being with you two, but Adam somehow persuaded Lavania to let her stay with us."

I stood up and walked around the living room, my heart racing. Seven years, and I'd known none of this. At least five of those seven years, I had been one of her closest friends, if not her closest. "People not trusting Rian? Rian's the most trustworthy person I know!"

"You _know_," Dad pointed out.

"This is mad," I said.

"It's also very much true," said Dad. "Many in the Order still don't trust her, though Dumbledore let her in. Only those that have actually met her have seen that she isn't her mother. It wouldn't be so bad if Rian didn't know it, but she does. And I know you two are hurt she didn't tell you, but she really was scared that you two would see her like that as well. So try and understand."

"We do," said George and I together.

I couldn't help but think about the conversation later that night, as I was once again in bed with Rian. She'd flat out refused to stay by herself, and even the next room was too far. She was snuggled up against me again, presumably sleeping comfortably. I know I slept better, without the threat of Adam hanging around. This continued for the next few days, until Rian worked up the nerve to visit the house. Kingsley had been able to get her off with no charges, and she hadn't even had to go for a trial. Finally though, she refused to let us go and get things for her, and had her brother accompany her to the house.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come?" I asked, hugging her good-bye. She shook her head, shrugging.

"It's just a house," she said, rolling her eyes at me. "I'll be fine."

"I might believe you if you hadn't just spent a week in my bed."

She gave me a half-hearted glare. "Thanks, for that. I really do appreciate it."

"Will you be alright?" I asked her.

"Yeah, I think I will," she said. "I'll see you around."

I kissed her good-bye and didn't see her until nearly a week later, when George and I went for dinner at the Burrow. We were still using Grimmauld Place as the center for the Order, but Mum and Dad had moved back home, and we went for dinner often. That night we showed up and found most of the Order there, Rian and her brother included. This was a pleasant surprise. We found seats at the table together, and whilst Rian and I touched feet, we chatted with George and Tonks. Tonks was looking a little worse for wear, and her usually outstandingly pink hair was a dull, mousy brown colour. She sat as far from the older Order members as possible, though she wasn't much for conversation around us either. Nonetheless, dinner was enjoyable, and as the weather was unseasonably warm, Mum had us all outside. Dad, George, and I set up some lights so that people could stay even after the sun had gone down.

Rian and I stayed near the edge of the house, catching up quietly. Suddenly Tonks hurried by us, stony faced. We glanced back to see Lupin standing alone near the other side of the house.

"I'll be right back," said Rian quickly, and ran into the house after Tonks. Lupin evaded some of the others that meandered over to talk to him, and Disapparated. There was an awkward tension in the yard that quickly dissipated. A half an hour later, Rian rejoined George and I, where we sat near a large fire.

"What was that all about?" I asked. Rian gave me an exasperated look. "Lupin and Tonks? No."

"Apparently not," agreed Rian. "He...doesn't want her."

"What?" demanded George, who was known to have harboured a liking for Tonks; at least, a year ago he had. "Who wouldn't want her?"

"Oh, I'm sure he wants her," said Rian dryly. "My guess is that he doesn't think he deserves her. Men. Idiots, the lot of them." She shook her head.

"Love," I began, looking at her questioningly. George did the same.

"I mean, except for you two. Most of the time."

"Good as we're going to get, I s'pose."

"Anyone up for a round?" she asked a few minutes later, as most of us were leaving. A few people assented, and we found ourselves once again giving the Leaky Cauldron its sole business.


End file.
